


Tongue Tied

by Sunset2304



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Atlético Madrid, Barcelona Sport Scholarship AU, College AU, Everybody is younger, FC Barcelona, Fights, First Love, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, In chapter 2, M/M, Rating will go up, Real Madrid CF, Serious Injuries, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, They don't play on different teams but in different training units, graphic description of violence, it's not that graphic though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:05:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9677303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunset2304/pseuds/Sunset2304
Summary: “You’re smiling at literally nothing and it’s freaking me out.” Rafinha tells him when he notices Neymar’s dopey expression. “He didn’t even do anything. What is your problem?”Neymar huffs and starts drawing circles again, having fully giving up on the lecture by now.“He said hi.”“No, he didn’t. He smiled.”“Exactly, he said hi. You know Leo’s not a man of many words.”“And he’s still the man of your heart, how weird.”





	1. A Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/gifts).



> This story is dedicated to all the wonderful people on tumblr that encourage and motivate me every time I feel down. You know who you are and I want you to know that I love and appreciate all of you!
> 
> The title of this work is taken from the song "Tongue Tied" by Grouplove, go listen to it now because it's awesome.
> 
> I have put my heart and soul into this work. Originally it was supposed to be posted as one story but since the words just kept coming I decided to split it into two parts and an epilogue. I can also officially say, that this is the longest fic I have ever written. It would mean the world to me if you would let me know what you think about it.
> 
> As always, English is not my first language and I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I may have made or if a sentence doesn't make sense.

Walking into a library on a sunny Saturday afternoon is nothing Neymar would usually support. He hates libraries with a passion since keeping quiet is just not his thing and reading is almost as bad. The sun being out today makes it that much harder to not just turn around and walk over to the field instead and Neymar spends at least ten minutes going up and down the front steps, trying to decide what to do.  
Right when he is about to turn around for real and just skip studying, his phone buzzes and a message from Geri pops up on his screen. 

Geri, 02:34pm:  
Where r u pretty boy? 

Neymar groans but dutifully turns around and trots towards the entrance. It’s cold inside and he shivers at first, only dressed in a pair of shorts, a loose white tank top and flip-flops. The librarian gives him a scathing look when he passes the front desk and Neymar intentionally makes his flip-flops hit the ground as hard as he can.  
He finds Gerard on the upper floor, sitting in between the shelves of historical novels and political magazines. When Neymar sees what he calls the Spanish table, he again feels the urge to turn around and leave.  
“Don’t you guys think integration is a good thing?” He asks when he reaches the group of Spaniards and flops down onto the chair between Geri and Fernando Torres.  
“You’re just mad you’re one of the only Brazilians in school.” Marc teases him and blows a kiss into his direction when Neymar glares him down. 

“Would you prefer sitting with the French dudes?” Sergio hums. “Cause we don’t mind.” 

“Gerard tell your boyfriend to stop being a dick for like five seconds, okay?” Neymar huffs and starts digging around his backpack. 

He does glance over to the French people shortly but then goes back to slamming his book down onto the table and aimlessly flips through the pages. He came here to play football, not to study for fuck sake. 

“Sese, stop being a dick.” Gerard says beside him and Neymar smirks at him triumphantly.

He loves Geri, has been friends with him since the day he arrived at Barcelona’s sports sponsorship college two years ago, but Sergio- Sergio is another story. Neymar never really warmed up with the Andalusian even though he tried to several times for the sake of Geri. He couldn’t really pinpoint what it was but he just didn’t like Sergio, he was hotheaded and rude and he liked bullfighting and when they played a match against each other he always, always went for Neymar’s legs first. 

Back in the day Geri used to date a sweet Colombian exchange student called Shakira. She had been petite with a head full of curls and a lot of temper and they used to dance together on nights out. She was a damn good dancer, always giving the boys a run for their money. Neymar smirked at the memory of her giving Geri a lap dance one night and half of the boys at the party fainting at the sight. He had been a lucky dude but then Shak had to go back to Columbia and now Gerard was stuck with a grumpy, long-haired dachshund who wouldn’t dance with Neymar. 

Gerard probably didn’t consider himself stuck but looked rather happy with having Sergio’s tongue down his throat every hour of the day- for example right now.  
Neymar watches with disgust as Gerard tightens his grip on Sergio’s hair and tugs it backwards, the Andalusian going willingly. He doesn’t even look away when the two Spaniards started kissing in a way that even Neymar considers inappropriate for a library.

Seriously, tongues being out were a little bit too much to handle for his poor eyes.  
He makes a gagging sound and buries his face in both hands.

“Please have mercy and get a room you two.” He whines. 

“Just fuck off if you can’t deal.” Sergio hisses, barely solving from Gerard’s mouth. 

Neymar is about to make a comment that will probably make Sergio’s blood boil but luckily Gerard is there to save them all from the disaster. He pulls back from his boyfriend, who makes a disapproving sound in the back of his throat, pokes his tongue out at Neymar and then gets up from his chair.

“Come on Sese.” Geri says and Sergio follows him like the loyal dachshund he is. 

Neymar looks after them darkly, glaring holes into Gerard’s back until the couple is out of sight. Maybe he doesn’t love Geri that much after all. 

“He should have stayed with Shakira.” He mumbles and starts flipping through his history book again. 

They have a test next week and Neymar knows he has to pass because he is already failing that class but he has it on Friday morning and he just can’t force his brain to process all of those information when it’s not even 9am yet. Again, he came here to play football and not get straight A’s in all of his classes. 

Also, Leo is in that class with him and he sits in front of him and that’s why Neymar spends the time he should be listening to his professor, staring at the back of Leo’s head. He’s sure that Lionel Messi has the best looking occiput in all of Spain, maybe even in the whole world. It’s glorious, just like his pale skin and his eyes and the mole on the back of his left ear. And his beard is ginger, like ehm, hello?

Neymar’s sure Leo’s beard could be any color and he would still love it but ginger is just so nice. He also knows that he’s probably obsessed with the older boy but he just can’t help it. Even before he came to Barcelona he had heard story about the way Messi played and when he arrived in Spain and stepped onto the pitch and saw Leo run with the ball for the first time ever, he just couldn’t help it. He fell in love. 

“Dios mío! I would fuck that pretty smirk right off his face if I could.” 

Neymar blinks and for a horrible, absolutely terrifying second he thinks he’s said all of those things out loud. His body is paralyzed for a moment or two but then he catches Koke’s annoyed expression and relaxes immediately. Thank God, he won’t have to spend all of his money on a plane ticket back to Brazil now. Because if anybody ever found out what he was doing to Leo in his head, Neymar’s positive he wouldn’t be able to continue living. He already feels sinful, okay? 

“Will you ever stop lusting after him?” Koke asks. “Because it’s really fucking annoying Nando.”

Neymar rejoices on the fact that for once he isn’t the one being called out as annoying but stops smiling once he notices the deep crease between Koke’s eyebrows. He rarely sees the bubbly Spaniard this pissed off, normally he always walks around with a smile on his face.

“I can’t Kokito.” Fernando whines beside him. “Just look at him. I would tap that ass so hard if he would just let me.” 

Neymar traces Fernando’s eyes back to the French table and makes an ‘aha’ sound because now he understands. Antoine Griezmann is sitting across from them, his delicate hands wrapped around a steaming mate cup. The French boy arrived to Barcelona last year and is one of the best strikers in their rows. He sometimes even gets close to shaking up Neymar’s record but as long as he doesn’t score more goals than him Neymar decides not hold a grudge against him. 

“Well, he won’t let you fuck him Fernando. He has a boyfriend.” 

Torres whimpers and runs a hand through his perfectly styled, blonde hair. Neymar watches his freckles dance when he scrunches up his nose in disappointment.

“I’ve been trying to get into his pants since his arrival and he just won’t let me.” Fernando sounds so desperate Neymar would have laughed if Koke hadn’t been so obviously pissed off. 

“I will tell you again, that’s because he has a boyfriend. His name is Paul and he’s a really nice guy.”

“How can you say that? He let him go to Spain and now that poor thing has nobody to vent to. I bet he’s sexually frustrated.” Fernando says and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it restlessly. 

His eyes never leave the French table, not even when he is speaking to Koke. Neymar looks over as well and inspects Griezmann from head to toe. He is not very tall, pretty small to be fair. He’s grown his hair out a bit, letting it curl and since a few weeks he’s also wearing that stupid hairband that in some magical way looks good on him. He also has two shiny earrings which earn him plus points on Neymar’s side and his eyes are so blue that they would be able to compete with Gerard’s. 

Looking at the petit Frenchman like that makes Neymar understand why Fernando wants to coax him into his bed so badly. There is something about Antoine, something that makes him seem like nothing bad has ever happened to him before. The way he laughs and the way he brushes his curls back behind his ears every few seconds make him look innocent and Neymar thinks, that if he wouldn’t be so helplessly in love with Leo he would probably try and get Antoine into his bed as well. He looks so untouched but he sure as hell doesn’t fuck like that. 

“I would destroy him. Oh, he’s missing out on so much.” Nando growls and aggressively crumples a piece of paper between his fingers. “Have you seen his ass? It’s so round and firm, I can never concentrate on anything during training.”

It takes Neymar a moment to realize that Fernando is speaking to him but when he does he is distracted by his own memories of Leo’s butt. Because Leo has a great ass as well, it’s just as round and plump as Antoine’s and sometimes during warm up session Neymar runs a bit slower on purpose so he can look at it from behind.

“Fuck.” Fernando’s curse takes Neymar back into the real world and he shifts awkwardly as he notices his dick perking up in interest. “He can’t be doing this to me.”

Koke turns around as well this time and all three of them watch Antoine carefully unwrap a lollipop before pushing it into his mouth. Fernando moans simultaneously with the candy disappearing between the Frenchman’s lips and while Koke turns back around, looking like he’s ready to throttle them both, Neymar keeps on watching as well.

Antoine hollows out his cheeks before pulling the lollipop back out of his mouth in a painfully slow pace. He repeats the process a few times until his lips are shiny with spit and colored in a deep shade of red. His eyes shimmer a bit and Neymar knows, that Antoine knows their watching him when he flicks out the tip of his pink tongue and runs it around the candy like the fucking tease he is. His blue eyes search for Fernando’s and he holds the Spaniards lustful gaze for a few seconds before deliberately wrapping his lips back around the lolli, sucking it into his mouth. 

“If he sucks dick like he eats candy I swear to god.” Fernando breathes and shifts in his seat just like Neymar did earlier.

Antoine smirks, noticing what state Fernando is in. 

“He is doing this on purpose, that little dipshit. He’s teasing me.” The Spaniard hisses, reaching for another piece of paper and crumbling it. “If I get him into my bed, he will pay for this.” 

Neymar watches the whole spectacle play out, watches how Antoine continues to suck on his lollipop till his lips look he has just sucked cock and then watches him send a cheerful smile Fernando’s way, gather his things and leave the table like he hadn’t just performed a whole live show for them.  
When he’s gone and Fernando is still staring after him with his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide open, Neymar bursts out laughing. 

“To your information.” Koke concludes and slams his biology book shut with a loud thump. “He is now going to our room to call his boyfriend and they will have loud, obscene phone sex for about the next hour. Thank you very much, Fernando.” 

The older boy shakes his head, still looking like he is caught up in some kind of sex-dream that is probably involving Antoine on his knees. 

“How-“ 

“Don’t even go there, Nando. Believe me, I know they’re having phone sex even though they’re speaking French.” Koke groans and gets up as well. “Paul has some weird fetishes, just so you know.” 

And then he’s gone as well, leaving behind a giggling Neymar and a Fernando Torres that is stunned into silence.

After that nothing much happens. Neymar waits for a while, hoping that one of the other Spaniards will strike up a conversation with him and save him from going through his notes but nobody really pays attention to him and Fernando is too deep in thoughts to notice anything anymore. So, as much as he hates it, he tries to study for real.  
He has re-read the same page about three times when Gerard appears between the book shelves again. His hair is tousled, his cheeks are flushed and when he steps closer and Neymar sees the expression he’s wearing, he feels the need to throw up again. 

“Oh my god, I hate that smug smile so much.” He complains immediately when Gerard sits back down.

The taller one turns towards the sound of his voice but looks right through him, his blue eyes still dreamy and unfocused. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” Neymar continues and holds up both hands in defense. “My poor brain can’t handle that.” 

“What brain?” Gerard gives back dryly and easily slaps away his hands when Neymar goes to hit him. 

“I hate you, Piqué. I really do.” 

“Ney, it’s still not intimidating me when you use my last name. In fact it’s just weird, just call me Geri.” 

Neymar pouts and crosses his arms over his chest. He feels offended even though he doesn’t really have a reason to. 

“Oh come on, you’re not five anymore.” Gerard says and punches his upper arm lightly. 

The Brazilian doesn’t answer just glares at his textbook until his eyes go out of focus and the letters and numbers become a blur of black dots on white background. 

“You know, you won’t intimidate your textbook either by glaring at it.” Gerard tries again, his voice sounding a bit apologetic this time around.

He knows it bothers Neymar to be called a child. He’s 17 after all.

“I have no fucking clue what’s going on.” He admits and rubs at his eyes. “Everything is so boring too, I fall asleep reading the first sentence and wake up when the bell rings. I should have become a stripper instead.” 

“Nah, nah.” Geri pats his back a few times and then reaches over, pulling the textbook closer to have a proper look at it. “You’re too skinny to be a stripper. You’re becoming a footballer but you gotta make this industrial revolution your bitch first.”

\--------------

It’s Monday morning and Neymar starts his day with falling out of bed. 

Getting up early to go to class is just not his thing and the entire way across campus he feels like a zombie. He gets himself a cup of coffee and then slides into his seat just in time for the professor to come walking down the stairs. The lecture starts and like always Neymar tries to pay attention at first but he’s just so sleepy. 

His eyes start to wander across the various faces around him until they land on one boy in particular. A boy with brown eyes, a mole on the back of his left ear and the approaches of a ginger beard. Neymar feels how his heartbeat picks up immediately. He tends to forget that he has class with Leo on Monday morning and when he happens to be reminded, his whole day is like so much better already. 

Leo is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt that make his muscles stretch attractively whenever he moves his arms and a pair of simple blue jeans that make his ass look fantastic. Neymar can’t actually see it but he just knows it does.  
He continues staring for a while, absentmindedly drawing little circles all over the few notes he had managed to take during the first few minutes of paying attention to class. Rafa pokes his elbow into Neymar’s side at one point, hissing at him to ‘keep it in his pants and stop being a stalker’ but Neymar doesn’t listen, doesn’t want to actually, and keeps looking at Leo. 

So when Leo suddenly lifts his head, looks over and catches him staring Neymar feels his cheeks reddening. His body becomes rigid in one second and relaxes in the next because Leo’s face almost immediately breaks out into a grin. Relieved Neymar waves at his teammate a little and this time Leo actually laughs, tiny wrinkles appearing around the corners of his eyes. Neymar likes seeing those because they always give away that Leo is happy and Neymar likes Leo being happy.

He likes it even more when he is the one making Leo smile. 

When they both turn their attention back to class Neymar feels weirdly completed. He inclines to obsess over the Argentinian so much sometimes, that he actually forgets that they are friends. Okay, they’ve never hung out just the two of them but Leo is Geri’s roommate and when Neymar spends time with the giant Spaniard he automatically spends time with Leo as well, which in his eyes, counts as hanging out as well. Also they have played football together for the past two years and their connection on the pitch is second to none.  
Neymar pushes a hand into his pocket, fingering his iPhone while thinking about the few times he had worked up enough courage to text Leo and pretend like he didn’t know what homework they had gotten assigned that day. Technically it wasn’t even a lie because Neymar really didn’t know what the homework was but he didn’t really care either. He was just looking for an excuse to talk to Leo and he was almost 100% sure that Leo was aware of his real motives. 

Still, he was too nice to mention it and went on to send Neymar the assignments every single time. Sometimes they talked a bit after that until Neymar decided he had asked enough question for one night. Leo always put a little smiley face behind his goodnight text though, which Neymar voted to be a good sign.

“You’re smiling at literally nothing and it’s freaking me out.” Rafinha tells him when he notices Neymar’s dopey expression. “He didn’t even do anything. What is your problem?” 

Neymar huffs and starts drawing circles again, having fully giving up on the lecture by now.

“He said hi.” 

“No, he didn’t. He smiled.” 

“Exactly, he said hi. You know Leo’s not a man of many words.” 

“And he’s still the man of your heart, how weird.” 

Neymar gives his best friend a blinding smile in return. Rafa, apart from Geri and Neymar’s sister, was the only one who officially knew of his incurable crush on Leo. Well, by now he is sure that more people were aware of this issue because he admittedly is not very good at hiding it.  
The only person who seems to still be completely oblivious to his feelings is Leo himself and Neymar hasn’t yet figured out how to feel about that. On one side it’s good because he wouldn’t have to deal with unrequited feelings but on the other hand he doesn’t know how much longer he would be able to hide his crush. 

Throughout the lesson Neymar keeps stealing glances over at Leo and on several occasions the older boy is already looking at him and Neymar decides that catching Leo staring for a change is actually the best feeling in the fucking world. In fact it turns him into a boisterous mess and he is glad they have a long training session in the afternoon because his body is already buzzing with excessive energy. 

Rafa looks mildly annoyed when they exit the room together but both of them are equally surprised to find Leo waiting on them outside.  
“Hey.” He smiles, shouldering his backpack.

“Hi.” Neymar squeaks while Rafa just gives him a friendly nod. 

Leo looks at him a bit funny but continues to walk with them. 

“I was wondering if you had anything special planned for Saturday night.” He asks casually. 

“We have a game and you’re hopefully playing as well, otherwise we’re screwed.” Neymar replies while starting to curse out their coaches silently.  
Why did they have to schedule the match on a day Leo Messi was asking him to hang out? If that would prevent him from going he might actually have to commit murder. 

“I know but it’s just a test game against the other training unit which means we will play it on campus. What about after that?” 

Neymar feels his heartbeat rising to a whole new level, preventing him from responding but thankfully Rafa is there to answer for him. 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” 

They stop at the door that will lead them outside and Leo turns back towards them, genuinely smiling at that answer. 

“Good because I was wondering if you guys would want to watch a movie with us? I mean with Geri, Sergio and me?” 

Neymar manages to suppress an annoyed groan at the mention of Sergio’s name because really, did that dickhead have to accompany Gerard everywhere he went? 

“Ahh I see.” Rafa grins and winks at Leo in a friendly way. “You don’t wanna be a third wheel and suffer them sucking faces on your own.” 

Leo’s cheeks turn pink and he shuffles awkwardly from one foot to the other.  
“It’s not like that.” He says quickly. “I’m asking because I want you guys to come along, not being a third wheel is just an appeasing bonus.” 

They all laugh and Neymar feels the strong urge to touch Leo’s cheeks where they’re lightly tinted. 

“Sure, sounds like fun.” Rafinha nods and sends a pointed look towards him. “Right Neymar?”  
“Yes, yes, yes. That sounds awesome.” The Brazilian hurries to answer. “I don’t even care what movie we’re gonna watch.” 

He hears Rafa groan next to him but he’s too busy watching Leo’s lips stretch into another smile to comment on it. Neymar’s aware he sounds way too enthusiastic about this since they’re only going to see a film together but hey, every seconds outside of class and football that is spend by Leo’s side is a very well spend second. 

“Cool, I’m driving then. I could come and pick you guys up at your dorm.” Leo offers and before they have time to answer he is already halfway out the door. “Sorry, I’m late to my next class. I will see you guys later at training.” 

He’s gone then and even though Neymar and Rafa are both late for their classes as well, they keep standing in the hallway for a little bit longer. 

“You know it’s not a date, right?” Rafa breaks them out of their silence.  
Neymar sighs but nods. 

“It almost is though, right? There are just three other people, that’s not that bad.”  
Rafinha rolls his eyes at him but his expression is fond none the less. 

“Come on lover boy, we’re late as well.” He holds the door for Neymar and ushers him outside. “And you know what? Now it’s time for that stupid dopey smile to make an appearance.” 

\--------------

Neymar is still smiling at training that night. Since Rafa had to deal with him the whole day he ditches him as soon as they come out of the locker rooms and jogs over to warm up with Marc instead. Neymar doesn’t have time to be offended though because all of sudden Geri is there, towering over him and wrapping an arm around his slim shoulders. 

“A little birdy told me you’re coming to the movies with us on Saturday.” He sings and grins dumbly. 

Neymar struggles against the hold Gerard has on him until he manages to pull his head out of his arm flexion. 

“Stop! You’re messing up my hair. I’m trying to look good for Leo.” He whines. 

Geri’s booming laughter echoes across the pitch, causing a few of their teammates to look their way. Neymar tries to swat at his chest but Geri moves away easily, obviously amused by Neymar’s attempts to silence him.  
“Well, keep on trying then. Leo’s not gonna notice you on the pitch, he’s way too focused.” 

Neymar sticks out his tongue and begins to fix his hairdo anyways while Geri looks on with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Still looks like shit.” He says when Neymar is done and they line up to stretch. 

“It’s still looks better than the hairstyle of your longhair dachshund.” 

“My what?” Geri asks incredulously. 

“The loyal dog that keeps drooling all over you.” Neymar repeats and when Geri still looks at him like he’s speaking in another language he sighs and waves his hand around a little. “Sergio, you dumbass.” 

To Neymar’s disappointment Geri is not even a little bit offended by his comparison, just starts laughing again until Lucho scolds them in front of the whole team. 

“I can’t believe you still hate him so much.” The Spaniard speaks up again as they start their jog around the pitch. 

Neymar splutters, falls back a few steps and then catches up again quickly, starting to rant.  
“Are you serious? I hate him!? No, no, no. He’s the one out to kill me, Geri.” 

“Has the Spanish sun finally fried your brain? What are you talking about?” 

“Shut up, I’m talking about all the matches. He’s so fixated on me, always tries to tackle me when he can.” 

Geri looks over at him, blue eyes twinkling with something that looks suspiciously like amusement. 

“He plays as a defender, Ney. He’s only doing his job.” He says then. “Sorry to break it you.”

Neymar wants to make a comeback but suddenly Leo slots into a free space a few meters ahead of them and he immediately zones out. Geri is still talking to him but his brain has something else to worry about now and all he can see for the rest of the warm up is the way Leo’s ass bounces up and down cutely. When he and Geri get paired up again to practice passing later on, Neymar remembers their conversation and picks it back up.

“No, like he’s obsessed with me.” He belatedly says.

Gerard is confused for a second before realizing what Neymar is talking about.

“Ah, I see. As obsessed as you are with Leo’s butt?” He grins in return and forcefully shoots the ball towards him. 

The Brazilian flashes him his middle finger and ducks away from Geri’s shot.

“I just don’t understand why you keep him around, Sergio I mean. There are plenty of people who will let you bang them if you’re looking for that. Hell, a hot Colombian chick is your ex-girlfriend, do you even know how many girls want to suck your dick?” Neymar keeps on rambling, jogging to receive the ball.

“Only girls?” Gerard questions when he gets back, pretending to be offended. 

“And guys of course.” 

Geri smirks, satisfied with the answer and then goes on to shrug.  
“What if I want Sergio to suck my dick?” 

Neymar makes a face, trying to not imagine Sergio on his knees with Gerard’s dick down his throat. For one he really doesn’t want to think about any sexual activities involving the bullfighting Spaniard and also he is longing to keep the pictures of Leo’s round butt fresh in his mind just a little bit longer. 

“Is he at least good at it?” He asks, passing the ball back to his friend.

“Fuck yeah but you know, that’s not why I keep him around.” 

“You don’t keep him around for the sex?” Neymar wouldn’t have been able to hide the surprise staining his voice even if he tried to do so. “But why-“ 

“I keep him around because I want to keep him around. It’s called love, idiot. I’m sure you’re quiet familiar with the emotion.” 

Neymar is in shock for a few seconds, trying to process the information Gerard had just provided him with. He is in love with Sergio, loves him like Ney loves Leo and yeah, that’s quite a game changer. 

“Well shit.” He blurts out, prompting Geri to start snickering again. “I didn’t expect that to happen.” 

“No? Did you really think I would buy him something for Christmas if I only kept him around to put my dick up his ass?” The older boy asks, not really acting all that surprised.

“I guess so.” Ney mumbles and sits down on top of the ball, having to recover from the shock of Geri’s confession. 

“Oh my god, you actually look so miserable.” Gerard snorts and goes on to laugh at Neymar, eventually taking a seat next to him to make sure he will not fall over in laughter. “I swear Ney, you’re the only guy I know that has his head so far up his ass that he doesn’t notice his best friend falling in love.”

“I’m sorry, okay! Please stop saying you’re in love though. It sounds so weird to hear that from your mouth and I can’t deal with the fact that I actually have to befriend Ramos now. Fuck my life.” Neymar whines and tries to cover both his face and his ears with his hands at the same time.

He is currently questioning the universe about why it decided to pair Geri with Sergio and begging it to rethink its choices when he spots Leo on the other side of the pitch. For a millisecond he feels better because the sheer presence of Leo does wonders to his state of mind but then he catches sight of Leo’s company and Neymar’s mood plummets definitively.  
Cristiano Ronaldo is languidly leaning against the goalpost.

He is a mix of long limbs, tanned skin, blinding white teeth and perfectly styled hair at every hour of the day. He’s fucking pretty and although Neymar likes looking at pretty things he hates looking at Cristiano Ronaldo.  
“What is he doing here?” He spits out, following Cristiano’s dark eyes wondering all over Leo’s body.

“Who? Cris? He has the day off and probably came to spend time with Leo.” Gerard tells him and picks at the grass a little. “Why are you glaring at him like that? Do you not like him?” 

Neymar feels a spike of anger in the pit of his stomach when he sees Cristiano’s eyes continuing to roam over Leo’s, resting on his ass a tad too long. He watches the Portuguese cock his heads to one side, critically supervising Leo’s movements with the ball before saying something that makes the Argentinian turn around laughing. 

He aware of the fact that they’re friends, knows they’ve known each other and played together long before Neymar came to college but he still feels jealous. He always sees Cristiano and Leo hang out, sees Cris put his hand to Leo’s back or his neck, sees them study together, sees them laugh and eat and joke around together and yes, he’s jealous because he wants to have that as well. He wants all of Leo.  
When Cristiano steps forward now and catches Leo around the waist, Neymar’s heart throbs and he stiffly turns away. 

“You know what?” The Brazilian exclaims and gets back to his feet, Gerard following quickly. “I think I hate him more than I hate Sergio.”

Geri raises his eyebrows in surprise. 

“But Cris has earrings. Normally that’s a huge turn-on for you.” He teases lightly and swiftly takes on the ball Neymar passes towards him. 

“Let me tell you, I feel more attracted to Sergio’s hair than I feel to Cristiano’s earrings. They look hideous on him.” He states and looks back over to where Leo and Cristiano are now playing football together. 

Yes, Neymar thinks, he really fucking hates Cristiano Ronaldo. 

\--------------

It is Saturday and Neymar is sweating like he does whenever Lucho puts them through an extra hard work out to punish them for losing a game, that they could have won or at least tied. The thing is, Neymar is currently not being owned by a trainings session but is standing outside his dormitory, waiting for Leo’s car to come around the corner. The heat of the day is still lingering in the air even though the sun had already disappeared behind the rooftops. Neymar tells himself, that the Spanish weather is the reason why he’s drenching the light t-shirt he’s wearing and not his ever growing excitement about what’s to come.

He closes his eyes for a moment, listening for a car engine in the distance but the only sound that reaches his ear is the rather loud chirping of the cicadas. Neymar sighs, starting to walk up and down the sidewalk because he desperately needs something to do, he can’t just stand still now. If he stands still then he has nothing to do and when he has nothing to do then he starts to think and that’s not a good idea when he is already running high on a mix of anxiety and skittishness. 

After another agonizing three minutes Neymar pulls out his phone, checking to see if he has received a text from anybody, preferably Leo. He feels jumpy, maybe even a bit tense and he knows his brain is preparing to go into panic mode once Leo shows up. He ends up clicking himself through his texts and starts re-reading his chat with Gerard for the sole purpose of keeping himself occupied. 

The blue eyed Spaniard was supposed to join them at the movies but he texted two hours ago, saying that Sergio had been taken down pretty roughly during the game (which they had won by the way) and that he wasn’t feeling good. Neymar remembers the way Sergio’s face painfully distorted when he had hit the ground and he also remembers feeling a tiny bit satisfied that he had to swallow some of his own medicine for once. Now, a few hours later and with the knowledge that he was still hurting, he felt something resembling sympathy instead.  
He considers typing a “get well soon” text but can’t bring himself to actually write out the words.

“Baby steps.” Neymar mumbles into the night. “Baby steps.”

A message from Rafinha pops up on his screen, asking if he’s still alive and doing okay. His best friend ended up canceling their plans as well because his family suggested a Skype date and Rafa didn’t have the heart to let them down. Neymar just shrugged it off but the real meaning of Rafa not going to the movies with them hasn’t yet hit him. It does though, right when he is halfway through typing a sarcastic response into his phone. His fingers freeze above the keyboard and all of sudden he feels even hotter than before. 

He’s going to the movies with Leo. Alone. Completely and utterly alone. 

He drops his phone onto the concrete, wincing when he hears glass smashing. His hands are damp when he bends down to pick the device back up, taking in the many little cracks, decorating his screen now. Of course that’s also the exact moment Leo decides to show up, steering his car around the corner at the end of the street and halting right in front of the younger boy. 

Neymar’s brain throws itself of a cliff then, tumbling towards a full blown panic attack. He’s on his own now. 

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. I got lost, every house looks the same.” Leo says when Neymar ducks into the car. 

“Don’t worry, I was busy.” Neymar gives back, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth. 

“Busy? With what?” 

“My phone.” He squeaks hastily, buckling up. “I’m ready, let’s go. We don’t wanna miss the movie, do we?” 

Leo smiles into his beard but starts the engine anyways, taking off towards the city center. They don’t talk much at first which is awkward because Neymar talks a lot but he really doesn’t want to fuck up, at least not during the first five minutes of their maybe-somehow-date. He contents himself with looking out the window, watching the illuminated city go by. When marveling at Barcelona gets boring, he turns back around and starts taking in his surroundings. 

Leo’s car is nice and clean. He has no empty soda cups scattered around the foot room, no half eaten sandwiches going moldy somewhere hidden beneath other crap, no wrinkled papers flying around anywhere and it doesn’t smell like their locker room after a particularly hard training session either. In fact it smells really fresh and that’s when Neymar notices the little air freshener in form of a lemon dangling down the review mirror. He reaches up and flicks it once and in some magical, beautiful way that’s all it takes to break the ice. 

They both start laughing and Neymar feels like a weight, he didn’t know had been there in the first place, had been lifted off his chest. 

“Your car is like- so nice. It smells good and I don’t have to be afraid to sit down on any of the seats. I like this.” Neymar chirps, stroking a hand across the soft fabric of the seats appreciatively. 

“Who normally drives you? Gerard does, doesn’t he?” Leo chuckles. “I haven’t been in that scrap yard in forever. Is it bad?”

“Yeah.” Neymar says simply. “It’s disgusting.”

“His car’s his second home. Our room normally looks like that as well.” Leo groans and Neymar suddenly is glad that he only has to endure Gerard’s messiness when his friend is taking him somewhere.

“Do you have a car?” The older boy asks, looking over at him shortly. 

He’s wearing a causal blue button up shirt with a pair of dark jeans and sneakers. The arms of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows and Neymar can see his muscles flexing a little when he turns the wheel. Another heatwave hits him and he rolls down the car window, sticking out his head. 

“Nope. I don’t even have a driver’s license yet.” Neymar tells him, enjoying the wind cooling his overheated skin. 

“Shit, so you have to rely on Geri? I couldn’t do that. If you’re ever stuck somewhere feel free to call me. I bet I would be there before Gerard has even found his keys.”  
They both laugh again and Neymar can’t keep himself from grinning like a little kid on Christmas eve. 

“I will probably take you up on that offer.” 

“Sure.” Leo nods. “That’s why I’m saying it. I was wondering why you are afraid to sit on his seats though?”

Neymar throws his head back and keeps grinning up at the sky. He can’t see any stars, the Barcelona city lights are just too bright but he keeps on staring until his neck starts to hurt. 

“Who knows what shit Sergio’s into? I bet they’ve fucked in his Geri’s car more than once. There’re stains on the seats sometimes.” He says and pretends to gag. “I shouldn’t talk about it that much. Thinking about their sex life always makes me sick.” 

“Oh, do you think about it that often?” Leo chuckles and Neymar knows he’s teasing him but his cheeks grow hot all over again anyways. 

“No, no, no.” He denies quickly. “I can’t handle thinking about that for even a second.”

They stop at a red light and Neymar arches out of the window further, craning his neck to be able and look up the long street ahead of them. The air is warm on his face but the hand that suddenly appears on his lower back is even hotter. He turns back, his heart skipping a beat when he realizes Leo’s touching him. His shirt has riled up a little in the process of leaning outside and now Leo’s fingers are resting against the little strip of bare skin, making goosebumps appear on Neymar’s arms. 

“I don’t want you to fall out.” Leo’s voice is as soft and warm as the night air and Neymar feels so in love his throat actually clogs up.

Their eyes meet and Leo holds his gaze for a short but sweet moment. Something shifts again inside the car, Neymar can feel it and he knows Leo’s aware as well. The mood went from awkward to comfortable to something that couldn’t really be defined very, very quickly and it makes the little hairs on the back of Neymar’s neck stand up. 

The light switches back to green, dipping both of their faces into an alien like glimmer and Leo takes his hands away, putting them back onto the wheel. They start driving again and with Neymar’s window still rolled down the wind is now blowing through the car, messing up Leo’s hair and carrying his scent over to Neymar. The younger boy feels lightheaded, the ongoing new kind of tension turning the anxiety he had been fighting before into something even more risky. 

“Is this a date?” He suddenly hears himself ask, knowing that Leo will understand him even over the ongoing sound of the cicadas. 

The Argentinian doesn’t answer for a while, rolling down his window as well and letting one of his hands dangle outside. Neymar admires how Leo looks so effortlessly sexy by just being himself. Maybe the rolled up sleeves of his shirt play a role as well but hey, Neymar’s stomach is fluttering and he doesn’t really care what causes it. He feels like a little schoolboy again, looking after the older girls who wore skirts to school and smothered their lips in shiny pink lip-gloss. 

But this time around, it’s Leo who he’s worshipping. Leo with his awkward sense of humor, his polite smile, ginger beard and mole on the back of his ear. It’s the same hopelessly pure love though, the kind you think you will only ever be able to experience once and Neymar desires to experience his, with the boy currently sitting beside him. 

“If you want it to be one, then it is one.” Leo finally answers his question. 

“I want it to be one.” Neymar whispers, his heart pounding away in his chest.

“Good.” Leo gives back. “Because I want it to be one too.” 

And just like that they both stop talking and Leo’s shows him where he stores his CD’s. Neymar flips through the covers for a bit, then picks out a random album and pushes it into the stereo. They sing along to Spanish pop as loud as they can until they reach the movie theater.

They don’t hold hands walking inside but their fingers brush once and it causes Neymar to wonder when this started and if he has been just as oblivious to Leo’s love as Leo has been to his. He doesn’t know if what they seem to have now has been there all along, but in the end it doesn’t really matter because it is there and that’s all Neymar wants and everything he needs. 

They buy tickets for “Arrival”, a new science-fiction movie Leo says is supposed to be good and then line up to buy some snacks.

“I just want water.” Leo mumbles, searching his wallet for change.

Neymar blinks and looks at him in puzzlement. 

“Excuse me? You are getting water when going to the movies?”

Leo looks up, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks in the process. He actually looks quite surprised by Neymar’s question, blushing a little under the others gaze.

“Ehm- yeah? What else would I get?” 

“I don’t know, soda maybe? It tastes better then water. And popcorn. You definitely need to get popcorn when watching a film. It’s the best part.” 

Nervously Leo starts fiddling with his wallet and it surprises Neymar how quickly his personality switches to different characteristics. One second he is all sexy and not caring and in the next he’s shyly avoiding looking at Neymar, acting like they hadn’t just totally eye fucked in the car. But it’s okay because Neymar has already fallen in love with every Leo individually. He’s definitely a lost case on this one.

“I haven’t had popcorn in a long time.” Leo admits, eyeing the candy suspiciously when a girl walks past them, carrying a bag of popcorn. 

“How long?” Neymar asks. 

“I don’t know. Since I’ve come to Barcelona, I think.” 

“WHAT?” Neymar puts a hand to his heart, pretending to be shocked. “Leo, that was years ago. What the hell?”

“It’s not on my diet plan.” The older boy defends himself but the little blush on his cheeks still stays in place. 

“Ah, I’ve always asked myself who sticks to the diet plan. I guess now I know.” Neymar chuckles and looks at Leo fondly.

“You don’t?” He asks, sounding so disbelieving Neymar wants to coo at him. “Why are you still so skinny then?”

The Brazilian takes a breath to start ranting about not being that skinny but Leo is suddenly poking at his stomach, looking very critically at his none existing fat and he ends up laughing instead.

“Nobody sticks to the diet plan Leo.” He tells him when he’s done. “Not even Geri and he is competitive as fuck.”

Leo is pouting now and this time Neymar does coo a little, nudging his crush gently. 

“Come on, be a little reckless. I will buy popcorn for us and you will try and enjoy it. You’re the king, nobody can compete with you anyways.” 

No more words of disapproval leave Leo’s mouth so he does as he said and orders a large bucket of popcorn for them both.  
When they’re seated in their respective seats towards the back of the cinema, Neymar digs in, munching away on the sweet and salty goodness. He doesn’t notice Leo not eating at first but when he does, he picks up a piece and holds it up to his lips suggestively. Leo still seems to be suspicious about the whole thing, eyeing the piece of popcorn and then Neymar longer then probably necessary. Neymar gives him his best puppy dog eyes and finally Leo opens up and takes the candy into his mouth. His lips brush against Neymar’s fingers in the process, it’s just a little touch but it causes the Brazilian to shiver anyways. He takes his hand back and absentminded rubs at the patch of skin Leo’s lips have just touched. He wants to kiss the older boy so much it actually hurts. 

“It tastes good.” Leo declares and reaches into the bucket again. “Really fucking good.” 

Neymar chuckles softly, surprised yet again at how adorable Leo is being. He watches the Argentinian happily chewing his popcorn and without really noticing it, slips into his staring-at-Leo-like-a-god-damn-stalker-zone. His victim tonight is Leo’s mouth which looks so soft and velvety Neymar feels his fingertips tickling with the urge to touch or preferably to kiss. He would give everything to feel those lips atop of his own, everything he has, to be able to gently coax Leo open and explore. He wants to lick and taste and find out what will make Leo squirm and kiss harder, he wants to run his tongue along his bottom lip and suck until he has had a proper taste of Leo. 

“Like what you see?” 

His teasing voice snaps Neymar back into reality and he finds himself still sitting in his seat, his jeans a little tighter around the crotch area. His face grows hot and he searches for a sign of disapproval in Leo’s dark eyes but all he finds is amusement mixed with a hint of mischief. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and grins sheepishly.

“Sorry?” He says.

“It’s all good.” Leo reassures him. “I’m just sorry we’re not sitting further towards the back.”

Neymar gasps, his dick giving an interested little twitch, because has Leo just suggested what Neymar thinks he has suggested? Before he has time to check the lights go down and the curtain in front of them slides to the side, revealing the gigantic screen behind it. 

Like Leo predicted, the movie is actually pretty good. It’s original and Neymar tries to follow the plotline as much as he can while awkwardly willing his half hard cock to soften again. He also bans all fantasies of Leo and him doing it in the protecting dark of the cinema from his brain and contents himself with the occasional brush of their hands when they reach into the popcorn bucket at the same time. 

On their way back to college they listen to some more music, this time in comfortable silence. Neymar’s body feels all light and happy because he just went on a date with Lionel Messi, the king of football, and it actually went well. 

They arrive in front of Neymar’s dormitory when it’s close to midnight and after Leo parks his car, he makes no effort whatsoever to usher him outside, so Neymar stays. They talk a little bit, about tonight’s game, school and family. Leo tells him that next time when they go on holidays they’ll have to fly back to South America together and the sincere flicker of his eyes tells Neymar he is being serious. An hour later he finally does slip out of his seat and steps onto the sidewalk. 

“Goodnight.” He is saying, holding the door with one hand. “I had a good time, thanks for that.” 

Leo smiles and leans over the middle console so he can see Neymar’s face a little better.  
“No need to thank me, I really enjoyed myself as well.” 

They linger in that moment a little longer, seemingly not wanting this night to end. Neymar is hovering in front of the car while Leo is still hanging over the stick shift, neither of them saying anything. Eventually Leo reaches for Neymar’s hand that is holding onto the door, presses his lips to the back of it in a gentle kiss and then pulls the door shut carefully. Neymar watches him drive away until he can’t hear the sound of the engine anymore and only then does he turn around slowly strolls back to his dorm. Before going inside he presses his own lips to the spot Leo kissed a few minutes ago and allows himself to be happy. 

\-------------

Things change after that. 

Leo and him actually start talking, not only during training session or games but during class and at lunch as well. Neymar doesn’t need to find an excuse to text him anymore, he can just send a message whenever and know that Leo will respond. He also sits next to him in class every now and then and he joins Neymar at the Spanish table in the library almost every Saturday, helping him understand the stuff he missed during class because he was too distracted by staring at him. 

Geri is impressed the first time Leo sits down next to Neymar instead of next to him because suddenly Neymar’s feelings, that were branded hopeless by almost everyone involved, seem to not be unrequited anymore. Leo and him are genuinely friends now and that makes Neymar fall even more hopelessly in love with him, every single day they spend together. 

They also go on more dates, hang out almost every weekend, sometimes with friends but more often alone and Neymar starts discovering all these new things about Leo. Cute little quirks, habits and expressions he uses often. He loves Leo for all those things, loves stuff he does that he didn’t even know he could love. For example he likes the way Leo holds his coffee cup, both hands wrapped tightly around it; he likes the way Leo studies, always chewing at the end of his pen because apparently it helps him concentrate and he also loves him for the stupid tattoo on his shoulder, even remembers Leo showing it to him for the first time.

“Oh my god!” Neymar had exclaimed. “Why your mother? Imagine somebody taking you from behind, it’ll be so awkward looking at that woman when you know you’re fucking her son into tomorrow.”

Leo tried to smother him with a pillow after that but Neymar managed to flee, laughing his ass off until he didn’t have enough breath left in his lungs. Later that night he told Leo that he liked him having tattoos and that he thought it was badass and sexy. What he didn’t say though, was that he wouldn’t mind looking at his mom as long as he would get to fuck Leo from behind. Somehow he had a feeling Leo knew anyways. 

A few days after that they held hands for the first time. It was after an away game that they spend ducking away from messy tackles and struggling to get the ball to hit the back of the net. Finally, towards the end of the second half, Leo scored a free kick and Neymar jumped on him like an overly excited puppy. He thought nothing bad of it but when the final whistle blew and they were on their way back to the locker rooms a few of their opponents swarmed in and things escalated quickly from there. 

Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty, Neymar started feeling claustrophobic and anxious, trapped in a mass of screaming and shoving teenagers while insults in various languages were thrown across the pitch. He had still been shaking when they got back on the bus, homophobic comments still ringing in his ears. 

Leo sat down next to him that day and when that didn’t do the job of calming Neymar any, he carefully reached for the younger’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Slowly but surely Neymar’s heartbeat had gone back to normal and he had fallen asleep with his head resting on Leo’s shoulder. The week after that was spend walking around with a dreamy smile on Neymar’s part and stolen glances on Leo’s.

Gerard and Rafa advised them to “finally get their shit together and fuck” but that didn’t happen, they only ever got to first base.

Ironically it happened in the back of the movie theater they had spent their very first date at. Neymar once again was lost, marveling at the beauty of Leo chewing popcorn when the Argentinian suddenly leaned over, laced his fingers through Neymar’s short hair and pulled him in. The kiss was everything Neymar wanted and more.

It was short lived but hot, filled with a lot of passion and tender flicks of tongue. Neymar’s heart was so close to bursting out of his ribcage when Leo pulled away that he didn’t know what to do other than lean right back in and take everything Leo would give him. It wasn’t much but it was enough. Needless to say that when they left the theater a few hours later, hand in hand and both with shiny, swollen lips, neither of them could remember the title of the film they had been supposed to watch. 

Rafa assured him that soon he would be able to call Leo his boyfriend and it made Neymar so happy that he felt like he would lift off the ground and float away every second. Leo was his oxygen and right now he was letting him breathe. 

\-------------

A few more months passed and it was November now. The warm weather slowly but surely faded into a greyish drizzle, wind and rain. Leafs started to litter the campus ground and on a particular cold day Neymar dug around his closet until he came upon his hat and gloves. His mom Skyped him, checking to see when he would go on holiday and be able to fly back to Brazil for Christmas. Rafa and him booked the flights a few days later and Neymar pinned the tickets to his wall clock. Seeing them every day brought a smile to his face, he was excited to go back home for the holiday. Of course, he loved playing football but he also was a family type of person and missed his relatives like crazy.

Other the that everything else mostly stayed the same. Gerard and Sergio were still fucking like rabbits and Sergio was still trying to go after him every chance he got. In general they got along better than they used to though.  
Fernando was still lusting after Antoine, having tried several times to get into his pants, each time failing miserably. Koke and the rest of the Spaniards were increasingly getting more annoyed by him but Neymar thought it was funny to watch the freckled boy struggle with being rejected by the Frenchman over and over again.

Also, most importantly, Leo was still not his boyfriend. 

They were still friends, still hanging out and still only making out. At this point in time Neymar wasn’t sure if there was any place on campus where they hadn’t stuck their tongues down each other’s throats but it just didn’t cut it anymore. He had gotten inpatient last month already, because even though Leo seemed to like him a whole lot, he seemed to not like him enough to actually do anything about it. Things had spiraled into a messy, confusing relationship by now and Neymar didn’t approve of that at all. He wasn’t asking for Leo to bend over a table and offer himself up to him, he didn’t even ask for sex, he was just asking for something else then blunt kissing and confusing interactions. 

His feelings for the older boy were still in place but he wasn’t sure about what Leo was feeling anymore. Certainly it was some kind of affection since he enjoyed kissing Neymar a lot, if the needy sounds and his hard dick were anything to go by. But Neymar didn’t even know what to make of their regular make-out sessions anymore and slowly the whole situation was starting to irritate him. 

Another source of friction that had been pissing Neymar off more than usual lately was Cristiano Ronaldo.

Through the course of the last few months Leo had never stopped being friends with their Portuguese classmate but because he had started being friends with Neymar as well, Neymar had been too focused on all the good things happening, to notice Cristiano still being around. Now that he didn’t feel lightheaded anymore and his minds were filled with doubts concerning his and Leo’s relationship, all the little interactions between the pair were rubbing him the wrong way. 

He didn’t like seeing them laugh together, he didn’t like seeing them hang out together, hell he didn’t even like seeing them stand next to each other. Neymar was jealous and he had a damn good reason to be, okay? Leo was supposed to be his, he almost had been his damn it! But now the reality was catching up with him, quite literally popping the little happy bubble he had spent the past few months in. 

Cristiano had been there before him, he had been there while Neymar and Leo had gotten close and he probably also would be there long after Leo had dropped Neymar again. Cristiano was now officially leading the list of people he despised from the depth of his heart. He was his competitor and at the moment Neymar felt like he was fighting a losing battle. 

“I mean you’re sure that Leo’s not into him?” Neymar asks for the hundredth time that week, walking faster so he would be able to keep up with Gerard’s long strides. 

“For god sake, yes!” The Spaniard growls, frowning down on him in disapproval. “When will you shut up about this? You’ve been complaining all morning and it’s stressing me out.” 

“Well, excuse me.” Neymar snaps back. “I’m sorry I just want to know why Leo is acting like a dick lately.” 

Gerard stops in his tracks and turns around, now facing Neymar. He’s standing so close to him, that the Brazilian actually has to crane his neck to be able to see his face. And fuck, Geri looks truly intimidating like that. 

“Leo’s not been a dick.” Gerard hisses, his voice actually sounding livid. “You have been a pain in the ass to us all, always bitching about every little thing. Leo doesn’t belong to you okay, he has other friends as well like me and like Cris.” 

Neymar has to take a moment to regain his composure. Gerard has never been mad at him, sure he’s been annoyed before, a million fucking times to be correct, but he has never spoken to Neymar like this. And he knows he shouldn’t talk back, should just shut his mouth and let Geri cool off but he can’t because his just as hotheaded and emotional as the Spaniard is. 

“Stop being such a bitch, Geri! I’ve never said with one word that Leo belongs to me-“ 

“But you imply it every fucking time you talk about him.” Gerard interrupts him, harshly stabbing his finger into Neymar’s chest. “Let him live for god sake. Just because he lets you stick your tongue down his throat every day that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re the only one he is talking to. Nobody could handle that Neymar and Cristiano has been around longer then you have, they’re close. Also stop acting like Leo is an asshole that cheats on people, maybe he’s just too polite to tell you he doesn’t want to date you. Have you ever considered that option?”

Neymar’s at a loss for words when Gerard is done ranting. He feels weird, like he’s standing beside his body, witnessing the whole scene from an outside perspective. His mouth is agape slightly as he struggles for something to say in return but no words make their way across his lips. Neymar looks for a sign of regret or softness in Geri’s familiar face but he can only find pure dander flashing back at him. He winces and unintentionally makes himself smaller. 

“I’m sorry.” He stutters and then again. “I’m sorry.” 

Gerard huffs and Neymar can see his feet moving away from him.

“Just don’t talk to me today, you hear me?” His friend says from a distance and Neymar nods quickly.

He wants to turn around and walk back to his dorm so nobody will witness his fallout but his feet are rooted to the spot, he just can’t will himself to move away. Neymar is still staring at his bright pink sport shoes in shock when another pair of feet appears next to his a few moments later. Red and blue sneakers this time. 

“Hey, I saw Gerard going off on you just now. Are you okay?” 

Neymar forces himself to look up and is met with a concerned looking Antoine Griezmann. 

“Yeah.” He says, cringing at the sound of his own voice.

Antoine does as well and carefully places one of his hands on Neymar’s shoulder, not sure if he is overstepping any boundaries. When Neymar doesn’t protest, he starts patting him softly.

“I share a few classes with him and he was acting like that this morning as well, even went off on our professor.” The Frenchman says in his melodic singsong voice. 

Neymar looks over at him and his expression must have given away that he doesn’t really understand Antoine’s attempt to make him feel better about the whole thing.

“I just mean- I think he’s just having a bad day. You shouldn’t let it bother you too much. He will come around and apologize eventually.” He continues and smiles at him shyly. 

Neymar still doesn’t believe a word Antoine is saying but he appreciates his affords and therefore tries to match his small smile. 

“It’s okay.” He tells Anto but doesn’t move away from his touch either.

The Frenchman seems to notice this is as well because he continues to squeeze Neymar’s shoulder and eventually carefully stirs him towards the rest of the team, which has gathered in the middle of the pitch.

“What are you doing here anyways?” He asks while they’re walking. “You’re in another unit normally.” 

“One of our trainers is sick so they joined our trainings sessions today.” Antoine explains lightly.

“And why are you doing this?” He makes a small gesture with his hand that implies he is talking about Antoine’s behavior. 

“I like you, you’re a cool guy and you were looking sad so I thought you might need someone to cheer you up.” He explains and shrugs lightly. “Can’t a guy be nice for once?” 

Neymar swallows against the lump in his throat and tries smiling again.

“Thank you.” He mumbles. “I don’t like being alone.” 

Antoine flashes him a bright grin that reveals all of his perfectly white teeth and Neymar decides that he likes the small Frenchman. 

“Do you want to be my partner?” Anto asks him when they reach the rest of their training unit. 

Neymar eyes automatically start searching for a flick of ginger beard and a spark of hope ignites in his heart when he finds Leo standing alone. He opens his mouth to apologize to Antoine and go over to Leo but before he can say anything Cristiano pushes through the crowd of players and wraps an arm around Leo’s shoulders from behind. His black hair is slicked back like always and his earrings sparkle in the Spanish sun that is still shining down on them. Neymar watches how easily Leo and Cristiano move together, how natural Cristiano’s arm looks wrapped around Leo’s shoulders and he finds himself wondering if they ever looked like that together. 

Over the months Leo had developed some kind of seventh sense, always noticing when Neymar is looking at him and today is no expectations. Cristiano is still talking to him but Leo doesn’t seem to care anymore, his own eyes now searching for Neymar. When he finds him and lifts a hand to wave, the Brazilian turns away. 

“Sure.” He tells Antoine, ignoring the pitiful smile the older boy is giving him. 

Antoine actually turns out not be great company, dishing out sassy comments every few minutes and doing the hotline bling when he manages to nutmeg Neymar. 

“Look at Torres drooling over my ass again.” He chuckles and nods over to where the blonde Spaniard is standing, gaping over at them. 

Neymar follows his gaze and laughs at how lost in thoughts Fernando looks. 

“I have him wrapped around my finger.” Antoine says, sounding quite pleased with himself. “He’s so easy to play.” 

“He’s obsessed.” Neymar agrees and watches Griezmann starting to stretch, bending over extra slow and wiggling his ass more than necessary. 

“Are you planning to fuck him?” He asks casually, joining in on the warm up exercises. “Or why are you teasing him like that?” 

“God no.” Antoine shakes his head so vehemently Neymar feels like he suggested screwing one of their coaches. “I have a boyfriend I’m very happy with. His name is Paul and he is sexy as fuck. I’m just messing with him because it’s fun. Also, I couldn’t do that to Kokito.”

“Koke, what about him?” Neymar asks surprised.

“Oh he has had a crush on Fernando since foreveeeeeeer. I’m just waiting on Torres to realize he wants him too.” Griezmann chuckles and winks over to Fernando. 

For the second time today Neymar is stunned into silence. He looks back to Torres and then over to Koke who is warming up with Gameiro and finally it clicks. 

“Fuck, now I understand why he always gets so mad when Fernando tries to sext you up.” Neymar mumbles and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Exactly, that’s my plan. I will continue teasing Nando until Koke gets so annoyed with him obsessing over me, that he will snap and tell him how he feels. And voila, everybody is happy.” Antoine smirks. “I’m a genius.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.” Neymar says and huffs out a breathless laugh. “But you’re not a genius. You’re just the devil in persona.” 

\------------

 

Neymar stays in their locker room a little longer after training. His conversation with Griezmann had managed to distract him a little from his encounter with Gerard earlier but now that the bubbly Frenchman is gone he feels a heavy numbness taking hold of heart again. In slow motion he showers and starts to get dressed, only mumbling a few incomprehensible words whenever one of his teammates speaks to him. Soon Leo and him are the only two people left and Neymar knows that Leo knows he’s hurting. 

“Hey.” He whispers and slides a hand down Ney’s back when he bends over to tie his shoes. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Neymar lies anyways because he’s not in the mood to discuss the relationship problems Leo doesn’t even know about yet. 

“I know you’re not being honest. I saw you and Geri earlier, were you two fighting?” 

Neymar shrugs weakly and pulls the hood of his sweatshirt up and over his head. 

“I guess so. He was mad at me.” 

Leo pushes closer, gently bumping their chests together and sliding his arms around Neymar’s narrow waist. 

“Why was he mad?” Leo continues asking, biting his lower lip like he always does when he is worrying. 

Neymar feels torn between wanting to sit down with Leo and talk about what’s bothering him and believing Geri on the fact that maybe the Argentinian is just too polite to tell him that he doesn’t want to be in a real relationship with Neymar. Either option is not very pleasant and so he decides to avoid both and act upon what he would normally do, which is back Leo up against the lockers and kiss the air out of him. 

Leo doesn’t give in immediately, keeps pushing at his chest and trying to turn his head away but when Neymar manages to coax his mouth open and slip his tongue inside, his lover moans and goes pliant beneath his hands. Soon Neymar has Leo’s legs wrapped around his hips, pressing him back against the lockers. This position is unusual for them, Leo normally being the dominating part during their make-out session but today he lets Neymar take control of the kiss. He knows Leo is doing this to make him feel better which should be a total turn-off but Neymar is too addicted to Leo’s touch to really care. 

His kisses hard today, unintentionally pouring all of his frustration and desperation into his touches, maybe hoping to express his feelings this way. The world around them stops existing for a moment, the only thing still being real and important being Leo lips. Neymar keeps kissing, keeps sucking, keeps making Leo feel. He even bites gently once or twice, before soothing the little bruise he left with the tip of his tongue. Leo moans into his mouth softly, his fingers messing up Neymar hair and clawing at his back every time their tongues entangle. He gasps and keens more then he usually does and even if Neymar is having the worst day in the history of worst days, the sounds Leo makes never fail to turn him on. 

When he feels his dick start to harden he pulls back, shivering as he sees a string of saliva connecting their slick lips. Leo makes a sound of disapproval in the back of his throat and moves back in to press several more demanding kisses to Neymar’s lips. 

The Brazilian doesn’t stop him but keeps Leo’s tongue from entering his mouth again. He knows that once Leo will notice his erection he will end this and today he can’t handle being rejected by him. Eventually Leo gives up and let’s Neymar set him down on the floor again. 

He keeps holding onto him though and they spend another five minutes just leaning against the lockers, embracing tightly.

“You’ll remember our study date tonight, right?” Leo asks, his face halfway buried in Neymar’s chest. 

Neymar had actually completely deleted that appointment from his mental calendar but nods anyways. Spending time with Leo is always something he looks forward to and maybe tonight he will have an opportunity to get some things out in the open and clean up this mess they made during the past few months. 

“Yeah. When should I be at your dorm?” He mumbles, pressing a small kiss into Leo’s dark hair.

It smells like his apple shampoo and Leo. 

“Actually-“ The Argentinian clears his throat awkwardly before continuing to speak. “-I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Okay, shoot.” 

“Do you mind Cristiano joining us tonight? He knew we were gonna study and he needs help with history as well and so I thought that would be a great opportunity to spend time with both of you.” 

Neymar feels like somebody had poured a bucket of ice water over his head which had then proceeded to seep into his body and is now pulsing through his veins instead of blood. To be precise, it feels like a thousand little needles prickling right through his skin. 

“Nah, I don’t mind.” He says, his voice sounding close to lifeless. 

If Leo notices his tone dripping with dishonesty, he doesn’t say anything about it, just pulls Neymar tighter against his chest.

“Great, then we meet at his dorm at 7pm.”


	2. A Goldfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is guys, chapter 2 of Tongue Tied.  
> I know I said last time that it would be two parts and an epilogue but I have never been good with estimating how much I would actually write. So now this is chapter two and there will definitely be a third chapter and an epilogue. I have an end in mind, I’m just not sure how the whole thing will turn out when I write it down, so there is a possibility of a fourth chapter. I don’t know yet. 
> 
> I want to thank all of you for the lovely comments and kudos I have received. You don’t know how much motivation this gives me to continue writing. Every time I get an e-mail, saying that somebody commented on my story I just get the biggest smile on my face. So thank you, thank you, thank you! <3 
> 
> For this chapter there is a warning for graphic description of violence, so if you don’t like reading stuff like that, then please skip over it. I will mark it in the text. 
> 
> Other then that, please enjoy reading and leave me some more feedback!

Neymar knocks on the door of Cristiano’s dorm at 07:32pm. He’s half an hour late on purpose and when Leo opens up for him, he tells him that he got the room numbers all mixed up. Leo’s eyebrows flare a little but he doesn’t mention how Neymar could have easily texted and asked for the right directions. 

He gives him a tight hug when he steps inside and then trails towards the bed again while Neymar stays back and takes off his shoes. Prior to their so called “study-date” Leo had informed him that Cristiano was quite a hygienic person and couldn’t stand people spreading gems through his bedroom. Neymar thinks it’s stupid but does as he is told, not wanting to get on Cristiano’s bad side. 

When he’s done and walks into the main room, he is faced with Leo and Cristiano both sitting on what Neymar believes to be Cristiano’s bed. Leo has his back leaning against the wall, legs stretched out and feet comfortably resting in the older boys lap. He smiles at Neymar while the Portuguese doesn’t show any kind of reaction to his entrance whatsoever.  
Neymar returns Leo’s smile as best as he can and lets his backpack glide off his shoulders. It hits the carpet and the soft thump makes Cristiano finally look up as well. 

“Oh, Neymar.” He says coolly. “I didn’t notice you came in.” 

Neymar fights against the impulse to come up with a derogatory remark himself but bites his tongue in the last moment. He has noticed Leo’s expression fading from content into worried, his eyes darting in between the two of them.  
For the sake of Leo, he could at least try to be nice.

“Thank you for letting me join in.” Neymar says and gestures towards Cristiano’s office chair. “Can I sit?”

The older boy motions for him to go ahead and Neymar takes a seat, trying not to think about how pissed off he is at Leo for making him do this. Originally it had been him and Leo making plans and Cristiano had joined in later, not the other way around. Nobody mentions that though and Neymar unzips his backpack as aggressively as he can, trying to somehow show his disapproval. 

Apparently Leo gets the hint because he takes his feet out of Cristiano’s lap and sits up properly. 

“We’ve started reviewing some stuff because you were late.” He tells Neymar and reaches behind him, fetching his history book. “We’ve just discussed some basic information about the Second World War and were just starting out on the Cold War.”

Neymar frowns a little, flipping through the pages of his own book.  
“But that’s not our topic, is it?” He asks, suddenly feeling unsure. “Have I really missed out on that much? I didn’t sleep through a whole theme, did I?” 

“Well, not exactly but-“ 

“-it’s my topic.” Cristiano completes the sentences and takes the book out of Leo’s hands, placing it in his lap. 

“I see.” Neymar grumbles because really, what else is there to say? “Why am I here then?” 

He can’t help himself, he’s not good at keeping his feelings at bay, especially not when he is being messed around with. 

Cristiano stares at him, his eyes hard and unmoving. Neymar stares right back, tries his best to look just as intimidating but he knows he’s not succeeding. After all he’s just Neymar, a skinny, 17 year old guy with arms that could also be mistaken as toothpicks. He’s an easy prey for defenders on and off the pitch, hell guys like Cristiano have him as a treat for breakfast.

“We can do both.” Leo speaks up, sounding slightly alarmed. “I can help Cris first, because we already started on his topic and after that I can still review with you.”  
Neymar recognizes panic in Leo’s eyes and voice but it’s too late now, he should have realized earlier that bringing him and Cristiano together would end in a disaster.

“Sounds good to me.” The Portuguese says, his lips lazily stretching into a smirk that reveals both rows of his pearly white teeth. 

Neymar rakes his brains for a comparison that would be able to describe what Cristiano looks like in this moment and the only thing he can come up with is a shark. And if Cristiano is a shark, then Neymar is a goldfish. 

“Ney?” Leo asks, still sounding bashful. “Is that okay with you?”

“Sure.” Neymar gives in. “I’m just gonna keep on reading then.” 

He catches the way Leo bites down on his bottom lip, pulls it between his teeth and starts gnawing on it. It’s a bad habit of his, Neymar has learned. He always does it when he is stressed out or anxious, for example before he takes a penalty or during an exam.  
Right now though, the tension seems to be even more unbearable. It hangs between them densely and Neymar feels like he might have to choke on it. He sucks in a deep breath, assuring himself that he still can.  
Leo’s eyes are watching him attentively, Neymar can feel them lingering on his face. He doesn’t let it show though and at some point Leo looks away, probably focusing back on the tanned boy, sitting next to him. 

From there on, it gets awkward quickly.

Neymar tries to study, he really does but the words just won’t go through to his brain. He keeps staring at a single sentence until the letters start dancing in front of his eyes and blur together till their just a splotch of black ink on top of white paper. He blinks and looks away.  
The history book still perched on his lap, he goes about exanimating Cristiano’s room. His side of the dorm is cleaner then Neymar has ever seen any room be before. Honestly, he didn’t even know a dorm could look like this.

Everything seems to have its assigned place in the perfect arrangement of Cristiano’s room, who also seems to be into modern simplicity since there are no posters, pictures or decoration of any kind anywhere. It’s just plain white walls and the usual furniture that is provided by the college.

Neymar plays with the thought of messing up Cristiano’s order by moving around stuff when he is not watching but his eyes catch on a flag that is hanging above the second bed in the dormitory. He tilts his head to the side a little and squints, trying to remember what country it stands for. Two green bars are framing another white one that is bearing a symbol in its middle. From what Neymar can identify it’s a woman petting the fur of two lions and he’s sure he’s seen this before.

“It’s the Andalusian flag.” Cristiano tells him and Neymar is really starting to get upset with that ever present shark-smirk.

He feels like Cristiano is constantly looking down on him.

“I know.” He says defiantly.

“Did you now?” Cristiano asks, a hint of amusement gleaming in his dark eyes. 

Leo nudges his elbow into his side and glares at his friend. Neymar counts Leo siding with him for once as a victory. A small one indeed but a victory nonetheless. 

“Just don’t touch anything.” Cristiano says into his direction but leaves him alone otherwise.  
Neymar sticks out his tongue at him when he is not watching. 

Having identified the flag as Andalusian he also now knows that Cris must be sharing rooms with Sergio. He remembers him wearing the flag as cape a couple of times after an important win and he thinks he also distinctly recalls Geri and him fighting about Andalusia being better then Catalonia once.

Damn that had been a good night. 

Geri had been fuming, strings of insults spilling out of his mouth while Sergio had gotten all red in the face and started talking in such a rapid Spanish Neymar hadn’t been able to follow him after the first few sentences. He had thought they would break up right then and there and he was fucking rejoicing, already planning out a whole party in his head but then, then Sergio had launched forward, pushing Geri down onto the nearest surface, in this case Leo’s desk, and Neymar had to get the fuck out of there before his poor eyes were to witness anything nasty like that. 

At least Sese couldn’t walk straight for a whole week after that.

Now, looking at a picture of Gerard and Sergio that the Andalusian had pinned to his wall as well, the memory seemed a little out place. Neymar wasn’t as fond of it anymore because even though he didn’t admit it to himself yet, he had started befriending Sergio during the course of the last few months.  
Impulsively he takes out his phone, takes a picture of Sergio’s wall and sends it to Gerard.

“I said don’t touch anything.” Cristiano hisses at him and Neymar can’t help himself, full on glaring at the older boy now.

“I didn’t touch anything.” He responds sharply, holding back on the ‘you fucking prick’ he is longing to add to the end. “I took a picture.” 

“Don’t do that either.” Cristiano huffs and Neymar feels his face getting hot.

“Fine.” He snaps. “I’m just gonna continue to sit here and do absolutely nothing then.” 

Neymar is pissed but he isn’t pissed enough to not be happy about the fact that finally that god damn smirk is wiped off Cristiano’s face. The Portuguese is actually starting to lose his composure, his mouth puckering in annoyance. He wants to say something else, Neymar knows it and he also knows that he’s ready to get to his feet, wrap his hands around Cristiano’s throat and show him how skinny he really is, but thankfully Leo is faster.

“Neymar.” He says his voice equally scolding and soothing him. “We’re almost done here, okay?”

Cristiano and him both huff but Leo just ignores them. 

Neymar slides down his chair and crosses his arms, sulking. He keeps checking his phone as well, hoping for Geri to respond to his text but he doesn’t and this whole scenario just feels wrong. They always talk, day in day out. Geri normally replies to his texts in a matter of seconds and this, him being mad at Neymar, makes the Brazilian feel more upset then Cristiano ever could.

Also it turns out that Leo was lying. They’re not ‘almost done’, they take a fucking hour and a half and Cristiano is still asking question. An hour and a half is a very long time for someone who is an impatient person like Neymar is and really, you can only inspect a room for so long. He tries every possible thing to distract himself but reading his history book backwards is not nearly as entertaining as he thought it would be and Cristiano is still playing dumb, asking questions even Neymar could answer.

He checks the time, watching the minutes creep along and at some point, because he doesn’t have anything better to do, he starts looking at Cristiano, starts really looking at him. 

Even if he doesn’t like it, to say that Cristiano wasn’t handsome would be a lie. He’s tall and muscular, his skin is smooth and tanned, his teeth perfectly in order and the way he moves has something elegant to it. Every motion has a purpose, nothing is random and certainly nothing is left to chance. Cristiano has a plan, always, knows how to present himself and knows what effect he has on others. 

Neymar swallows hard and tries to keep himself from thinking about everything Cristiano has that he doesn’t have. But now that he started, he can’t stop.

Cristiano’s self-confidence is intimidating even when the Portuguese is not doing or saying anything and Neymar feels increasingly uncomfortable with being in the same room as him. He watches how Cris brushes his fingers against Leo’s hand or his neck every now and then, watches how brightly he smiles at Leo whenever he looks up to check if Cristiano’s still listening and he realizes that to Leo, all of these little affections probably seem to be coincidences. But Cristiano never does anything coincidentally, Neymar has established that by now. 

He checks his phone again. He still has no text from Geri and it’s almost 09:30pm.  
Neymar clenches his hand around the device and glances at Leo and Cristiano again. They’re deep in conversation, Cris having successfully distracted the Argentinian from their original topic. Neymar can’t understand what they’re talking about, their voices are hushed as if they wouldn’t want him to listen in. 

“Leo.” Neymar says, his throat feeling scratchy. “Leo?” 

The older boy doesn’t react, doesn’t even hear him. His eyes are focused on Cristiano, hanging on his every word before he starts giggling at something he said. Neymar feels his bottom lip starting to tremble but he bites down on it hard. 

“Leo!” He calls out and this time the Argentinian turns at the sound of his voice.

He looks at Neymar and for a split second he can see wonder in his eyes. Like he had totally forgotten Neymar was patiently waiting for him to finish his history lesson all this time.  
And Neymar loves those eyes, fuck, he adores them, but right now he hates them.

“What?” Leo asks, still leaning towards Cristiano, their foreheads almost touching. “We’re almost done Ney. I promise-“ 

“Don’t bother.” Neymar surprises himself with his words but before he has a chance to take satisfaction out of Leo’s shocked expression he is on his feet, stuffing his shit into his backpack and fleeing the scene. 

He hears Leo call out his name and then there is scrambling behind him, somebody jumping off the bed and footsteps hurrying over to where he is tying his shoes with trembling fingers.

“Neymar, please.” Leo is behind him in an instant, carefully touching his hand to Neymar’s shoulder. 

He steps away from him and for once he doesn’t feel sorry for the hurt flashing in Leo’s eyes. The anxiety is already claiming too much room inside of his chest, holding his heart in a vice like grip and he can’t handle feeling compassionate right now.

“I’m sorry.” Leo tries again, whispers this time and Neymar knows those words are only meant for his ears.

“I thought we wanted to spend time together.” He finally says what has been burning on the tip of his tongue since they made out in the locker room.

“I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t say no when he asked if he could join us.” Leo is still whispering but Neymar doesn’t care anymore.

“You could have.” He protests loudly. “Of course you fucking could have but you didn’t want to.”

Leo looks at him dumbfounded, curling in on himself and his defensive body language is enough for Neymar to know that his assumption was right. He waits for him to say something else, wants him to put on his shoes as well and leave beside him but he doesn’t move. Instead Cristiano’s laughter fills the room some seconds later and it causes Neymar to recoil from the whole scene even more.

“Come on Leo, let him be a child if he wants to act like one.” Cris says and Leo turns around, giving Neymar a free view on the Portuguese.

He is still perched on the bed, comfortably stretched out all over the sheets now. His smirk is in place again and he looks so smug Neymar wonders if he knew this would happen all along. 

“I’m not a fucking child.” He snaps, clenching his hands again. “Stop calling me that.” 

“Oh.” Cristiano exposes his teeth again, grinning because he has already won and they all know this. “You are a child.” 

Neymar wants to say something that will hurt him but his throat clogs up and his frustration skyrockets. When he feels his eyes starting to burn with incoming tears he desperately screams at Cris to shut his trap because he doesn’t know what else to do. He hates being called a child, it makes him so angry he wants to cry.

“Awe, look at him. Going around yelling is not a solution, honey. Try and grow up before you fight people older than you.”

Neymar feels a tear slip down his cheek, hot and wet. It drops down from his chin and hits the floor. Nobody says a word.

Neymar suddenly feels emotionally overloaded. He’s so upset about being made fun of, being ignored and substituted by the man he loves, that his body has to release all those negative emotions through crying. And he hates crying, it makes him feel weak and he hates it even more right now because Cristiano is still looking at him with that fucking smirk. Apparently he knows exactly how to push Neymar’s buttons and it doesn’t make him angry as much as it scares him.

“What do you think, Leo?” Cristiano asks after a few more of Neymar’s tears have hit the floor. 

They both look at the Argentinian who is now standing with his back leaning against the wall. His face is pale and he resembles a trapped animal, alternating between looking at Neymar and Cristiano and back again. Neymar can only imagine what they look like right now. Cristiano his usual self, lounging on the bed like he is really enjoying the whole situation and then there’s Neymar next to him, face red and splotchy, looking like a child that just got scolded at. 

Because Cristiano is a shark and Neymar is a goldfish and it’s so painful that he turns around and escapes the room even before Leo has the chance to side with either of them. 

\----- 

Neymar’s feet carry him to another dormitory without him really wanting them to do so.  
He is holding his phone tightly in one hand, waiting and hoping for it to start vibrating with an incoming call from Leo but it stays silent up until he knocks on Geri’s door.

His tears have dried, well frozen, on his face by now but his heart is still stumbling over itself.  
It takes a good two minutes for Geri to open the door but Neymar stands his ground and waits. He needs to talk to someone, someone who will listen and take him serious for once.  
Geri is wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose white shirt when he appears in the doorframe. He looks naturally bored but when his eyes fall on Neymar, his face drops. 

His body language visibly changes, he straightens up and his blue eyes take on a harshness that Neymar’s not used to from his friend. 

“Hey.” He breathes, the lump in his throat making a return. “You didn’t reply to my text.”

“No, I didn’t.” Geri responds simply.

Neymar nods even though he doesn’t understand why Gerard is acting like this. He’s aware of the fact that he’s an annoying little shit but Geri has been pissed at him a million times before and he has never, never acted like this. Not when Neymar accidentally deleted his finished research paper, not when he kept on insulting Sergio in the worst ways he could possibly imagine and not when he got him a shitty present for his birthday last year.  
Gerard has never refused to talk to him or has ever really been angry with Neymar before. Being rejected by him equals somebody slowly sinking a knife into his abandon and twisting it around until Neymar is screaming. 

“Well, did you not get it?” He asks, already knowing the answer but still praying for Geri to start laughing and tell him this is all a joke he and Sergio had set up to get back on him.

Instead, Gerard just huffs dismissively and shoves both hands into the pockets of his ratty sweats. Neymar anxiety flares back up, a painful spike of distress, that leaves his heart pounding away. He clutches his phone to his chest and tries to steady his voice when he sets to talk again.

“Why did you not reply?”

“I didn’t want to.” Geri is not looking at him when he says it.

Neymar takes a shaky breath, counts down from five and tries to keep his head clear.

“I spend the evening with Cristiano and Leo.” He says, speeding up when he sees Gerard’s face darkening even more. “We were at his dorm and they kept ignoring me and then I left and I feel like-“ 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Geri’s not screaming but he is definitely raising his voice. “I don’t want to fucking hear it.”

Neymar ducks his head but continues talking anyways. He knows it’s probably not a good idea to enrage Gerard further but he does so anyways because he’s never been good with keeping his mouth shut. There is also a tiny part of him still hoping for Geri to come to his senses and let him inside because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Neymar is distressed. He doesn’t want to be alone right now. He’s scared of being lonely. 

“Geri.” He says desperately. “I need to talk to someone about this, I-“

“Shut up!” Gerard hisses at him and Neymar shrinks back. 

He wills down a pathetic whine that is looming in the back of his throat and turns to look at the floor. 

“Why are you like this? What did I do to you?”

Gerard laughs but there is no sign of the familiar warmth that normally goes hand in hand with the sound. Neymar feels sick. 

“What you did to me? Nothing, that’s the fucking problem. You don’t do anything for me, Neymar, and yet you expect me to be there every time you need to rant about whatever the fuck Leo has decided to do now.” 

“I’m sorry.” Neymar gasps when he realizes what’s going on. He takes a step forward again but Geri only glares him down. “I didn’t know you were hurting Geri, I’m sorry. You should have told me, I would have tried harder, you know I would have tried harder.” 

For the first time tonight Neymar sees something other than rage flicker across Geri’s face. It’s gone too quickly for him to identify but it makes him feel worse anyways. He didn’t realize he was hurting his friend, he never meant to do so, he was just too caught up in his own problems to notice Geri growing distant. Looking back on it now he felt incredibly ashamed of himself. How could he have pushed his friends away only focusing on a man who couldn’t decide who he wanted to have by his side?

“You should have noticed but you’re way too egoistic to notice anything these days.” Gerard mumbles.

“I’m not, I can proof to you that I’m not.” Neymar pleads and takes another cautious step forward, he’s right in front of Gerard now. “Please, let’s talk about this. I can fix this, I promise I can.” 

Geri stays silent for a second or two.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Neymar hurries to answer, considering just pushing past Geri and hide beneath the bed until the Spaniard would agree to properly talk to him. “I want to talk about something else now.”

He wants to work this out. He can’t lose Geri, he just can’t but the giant footballer is not budging from his spot in the door. 

“You came by to talk about Leo again, didn’t you? Of course you did, you were upset again about him spending time with Cristiano. You’re always upset about every fucking thing, you need to grow up.” 

Neymar squeezes his eyes shut and resists the urge to punch Geri in the stomach. His hands are shaking even more violently now and he has to bury his phone in his pocket so it won’t kiss the floor again. 

“Are you calling me a child?” He whispers, the hurt evident in his voice.

There is a moment of silence again as they both breathlessly wait for Gerard to answer. When he does Neymar feels like the one receiving the punch in the stomach.

“I guess I am.”

He takes a step backwards and then another one, avoids looking into Geri’s blue eyes in the process, afraid of what he might find there. His mouth feels awfully dry, just like his throat and he doesn’t know how he utters his next words.

“I’m not a child.”

Neymar knows that Gerard is only saying all of these awful things to hurt him like he has unknowingly hurt Geri. It stiff works though, he feels like he might actually have to throw up now.  
“I don’t have time to listen to your bullshit. At least not right now.” The Spaniards voice doesn’t sound as aggressive anymore and Neymar wonders if he knows he’s gone too far. “Sese is coming over. Just go now, okay?”

“I’m not a child.” Neymar repeats, clenching and unclenching his hands slowly.

His heart is still beating rapidly and he knows it won’t calm down unless Gerard tells him he doesn’t mean it. Because Neymar is not a child, is he? He likes to tell himself he’s not but maybe, maybe he is one after all. Everybody keeps telling him so and people rarely take him seriously. Maybe they’re right after all, why would they say things like that if they didn’t mean it?  
Neymar sucks in a shaky breath and counts down from five in his head again. He feels like a burden to the whole world all of sudden.

“Go home, Ney.” Gerard is saying and this time when Neymar looks up and meets his eyes, he doesn’t try to hide his tears. 

So he’s a child after all and kids are allowed to cry. 

“Fuck you.”

He spits it into Gerard’s face and then hurries down the corridor, not wanting to give the Spaniard the satisfaction to actually see tears roll down his cheeks. He prays that nobody has listen in on their conversation and that the college will be left in the unknown about his tendency to get emotional when his friends treat him poorly. 

He makes it outside, the cold air piercing his skin. His breath comes out in little clouds of white smoke and Neymar stands still for a moment, tilts his head back and looks up at the sky. He remembers the first time he went on a date with Leo and twisted out of the car window to try and see the stars. He still can’t see them today but this time Leo’s not around to comfort him. He’s on his own.

Neymar twists around and throws up into the bushes next to the entrance of the dormitory. 

\-----

It’s fucking cold outside.

Neymar shivers even though he is wearing the warmest jacket he possesses. His breath is still forming little clouds in front of his face and he can’t feel his lips anymore. He wraps his arms around himself and keeps on walking. Actually he has no idea how much time Geri and he had spent bitching at each other but it was dark out now and the whole campus looked like not a soul had ever wandered along those now empty paths.

He’s halfway to his dorm when suddenly he notices a group of shadows hanging around one of the buildings close to him. He can’t recognize how many of them there are, the vague figures he can make out constantly shifting and melting into the darkness before he has the chance to count them.

Automatically Neymar pulls his head between his shoulders and speeds up, his feet hitting the pavement with every step he takes. The noises his soles produce on the ground are unnecessarily loud and he feels like the group of shapeless shadows turns towards him when he passes. A slight breeze picks up and carries the sound of people mumbling over to him. With it comes a pungent, unmistakable smell that even Neymar recognizes without ever having attended one of the infamous frat parties. He’s been invited a couple of time but he’s also on his way to become a professional footballer, he has other things to worry about then drinking himself into unconsciousness.

Neymar releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he passes the group of shadows and continues his way through the night.

Geri’s a year above him in school and therefore lives on the other side of campus and he is slowly freezing to death. Fuck Gerard, seriously. He puts his hand up to his mouth, blows into them once and then rubs his palms together. His fingertips are starting to feel numb as well and he still has to walk for at least another ten minutes.

Neymar has already forgotten about the nameless group smoking on campus, too occupied with trying to keep himself warm, when suddenly he hears it. It’s the sound of footsteps following him and this time he’s sure it’s more than one person.  
There are at least three, he guesses.

Neymar swallows hard and forces himself not to turn around. He doesn’t need to do so to know who is following him anyways, the smell of weed is heavily wafting through the air by now, causing the young Brazilian to cough. He tries to walk a little faster without immediately looking like he trying to run away from whoever is chasing him but he knows he is failing miserably. 

To his discomfort, his pursuers decide to adjust their speed to his and okay, now Neymar is really getting scared. Why did all those fucking college students pick tonight to stay in their dorms and not take a little late night stroll across campus? 

After another minute or so Neymar is freaked out enough to reach for his phone and click himself through his menu. His breaths is coming a little quicker now and he’s desperately trying to dial the right number because he’s too fucking stupid to put any of his friends on speed dial. He will definitely change that if he ever gets back to his dorm safely.  
Right when he is about press the call button, he realizes he has typed out Geri’s number and then panics because he can’t call Geri. The Spaniard won’t answer the phone.

Neymar stops walking in a moment of utter paralysis as he realizes, that his friend, one of his best friends, is not going to come and save his sorry little ass from whoever has decided to freak him out. He’s on his own and he doesn’t have a clue how to deal with that at all.

With Neymar having stopped moving, the people behind him have stopped walking as well. It’s silent, none of them saying a word, which feels weird because his persuaders must have a reason to follow him through the night. Neymar glances up the street and realizes he’s not that far away from his dorm. He could make a run for it, just take off and sprint to the entrance of the building. Inside he wouldn’t be on his own anymore for sure.

Neymar would have probably made it, if his brain hadn’t decided to take two seconds too long to maul his plan over. Because when he finally makes the decision to run, and is about to take off, somebody steps up to him from behind and presses his fist against his lower back. Neymar freezes on the spot. 

“Ney.” A raspy, all too familiar voice breathes into the wind. “Is that you Neyney?”

Neymar groans, his body tensing up even more because he knows who this is. And he had prayed, every day of his life, to never have to hear this voice again ever.

“Shut the fuck up, Benson.” He hisses with as much authority he can muster after this fucking awful night and whips around to face his ex. 

Well, ex may even be a terrible exaggeration. 

Back when Neymar first came to Barcelona two years ago and had troubled fitting his bubbly personality into the squad, a boy named Benson had taken it upon himself to introduce Neymar to the life on Barcelona’s biggest campus. All that had included was fucking Neymar in various positions all over campus while uttering out some basic facts about the university he had probably looked up on Wikipedia before they met up.

Thankfully it had only happened a handful of times before Gerard had taken him under his wing and had started introducing him to the squad at training. Since the only thing he really liked about him were the great orgasms he got out of Benson putting his dick up his ass, he had dropped him pretty quickly after that. The boy may have a gorgeous face but it was overshadowed by a shitty personality and Neymar didn’t really regret cutting things off early on in their ‘relationship’. 

“Nah, nah.” Benson smiles at him, unhurriedly getting out a half empty pack of cigarettes. He proceeds to shake one out into his open palm, lets it dangle from the corner of his mouth and lights it up, before continuing to speak. “Why so unfriendly?”

His eyelids are heavy, his pupils wide and hazy and the lazy grin twirling around his lips makes Neymar uncomfortable. He shuffles backwards, putting space between him, Benson and the two bulky guys that accompanying him. He’s seen them around campus but he can’t remember their names for the love of god. 

“Maybe because you’re following me around in the middle of the night.” Neymar snaps. “It’s creepy, okay?” 

One of the scary unknown dudes chortles a little and Neymar finds it weirdly off-putting. He draws back some more, trying to create even more distance between them. Benson watches him through hooded eyes and then starts strolling forward as well. 

“Where are you going lovely, I’m sorry we scared you.” He takes a hit of his cigarette and then hands it on to one of his friends.

The smoke hits Neymar in the face before he even knows what’s happening. He starts coughing and turns away from his ex for a second, when he can breathe normally again Benson is closer to him then he was before.

“Come on Neyney, don’t be a loser. We haven’t talked in a while, let’s chat a little.” He suggests, reaching out for him. 

Neymar bats his hand away and sends him a death glare which only causes Benson to break out into hysterically giggles. 

“Stop calling me that.” Neymar says firmly. 

“Oh, why not? Is somebody else calling you that now? Maybe that Leo kid that you have been swooning over?” Benson asks, winking at him in a way that makes Neymar’s blood run hot. “Have you sucked his dick yet? The whole school is cheering for you Neyney.”

“No, I actually haven’t and I don’t even fucking want to.” He growls.

They all know that’s a big fat lie but Benson’s too worked up to let it rest.

“Poor thing, you must be going out of your mind then. Honestly, I thought your exclusive little club of footballers would be more fun. So many pretty boys all in one place, hm, I think I would have gone for Leo first too.” 

Neymar breathes in through his nose and then turns around, continuing his way back to his dorm, Benson hot on his heels. 

“And after I’ve bend Leo over the bench in the locker room and fucked him till he didn’t remember his own name, guess who I would go for after that?” His ex teases him. “Come on Neyney, what pretty ass would I go for next.”

“I don’t fucking care.” Neymar hisses, his fingernails digging into his skin from how hard he is clenching his fists. 

“I think it would be Sergio Ramos. Yeah, I really think so. That long hair, I bet it would be perfect to hold onto while he is sucking my cock.” 

“He has a boyfriend who he’s quite happy with. Sorry to break it you.” Neymar tells him, still not unclenching his hands. 

“Oh right, that Spanish Eiffel Tower, he would be the last on the list, even after you Neymar. Because you’ve already had a taste, you will have to wait patiently until I’m done screwing the rest of your prefect like football team.” The older boy taunts him. 

When Neymar whirls around this time, Benson’s smile is so smug he is overcome by the need to screw up his pretty face. He doesn’t though because he knows that’s what Benson’s waiting for and his creepy companions look like they could smash Neymar’s face without really putting much effort into it.  
And he would like to keep his teeth for a little longer, thank you very much. 

“Why do you think all of them would be willing to fuck you?” His voice is shrill with anger but he doesn’t care. “You of all people, guess you can’t take somebody cutting you off, can you? Damn, you really must have a weak spot for me if you’re still lusting after my ass like that.”

Benson’s left eye twitches and he takes the cigarette back from one of his bulky friends, taking a few more hits. The tip is a glowing red dot in the dark that Neymar keeps staring at while Benson exhales into his face. He should use his chance, turn around and run but he doesn’t because he’s stupid and because he wants to prove to the world, once and forever, that he’s not a child. 

“You think so?” Benson sounds a bit more strained now as well.

He throws the cigarette to the ground and steps on it before focusing back on Neymar.  
“I tell you what, they would all be lusting after me, just like you did when you first showed up in Barcelona. You were putty in my hands, always willing to let me fuck you whenever and wherever I wanted to. You’re a little slut for me.” 

“Woah.” Neymar lifts both of his hands in a defensive gesture. “Let’s not exaggerate, okay? Cause I feel like you remember that a little bit differently than I do. We fucked and it was good, then I made friends that wanted me for more than my body and I broke things off with you because you’re an asshole.” 

Benson’s eyes twinkle dangerously in the dark. 

“Ah, so now you and your little club of gay dudes are better than me, is that what you’re saying?” 

“I guess.” Neymar shrugs, repeating the words he himself had heard tonight. “You know, you’re right. We’re a club. A football club or a little exclusive club of gay dudes, however you wanna call it. And guess what Benson, I would let each of them fuck me for the rest of my life if it meant that I would never have to go near your dick again. There’s a reason why you’re not in it, got it?” 

\--- Description of violence starts here --- 

He knows he shouldn’t have said that and he kind of expects the first punch but that doesn’t mean he’s prepared for it. Benson hits him straight in the jaw and the force of it all sends Neymar stumbling backwards. He groans, a sharp pain arises from his now aching jawbone. He ducks away from his ex’s next attempts to hit him but doesn’t manage to really escape the danger zone. He has never fought with anybody before and he doesn’t fucking know how to do this shit. 

Neymar decides that a counter attack is the best strategy but when he tries to take a swing at Benson, the older boy manages to dive out under his arm pretty easily, grabs it instead and twist it until Neymar is crying out in pain. 

“Fucking newbie.” He hisses and pushes Ney away from himself. “Is this all you can do?”

Yep, Benson definitely has more experience in this field but Neymar’s not about to just give up and run for his life. He probably should do that but he goes for the taller boy again, this time surprising him with a kick instead of a punch. He hits Benson in the stomach and this time it’s him who sinks to his knees and gags. Neymar’s victory doesn’t last long though because all of sudden one of the big dudes is all up in his face, pushing him so hard he feels like his feet lift of the ground for a moment.

He manages to keep his balance but loses his orientation for a moment.  
When Benson hits him straight in the nose it’s not fair really. He wasn’t quite there yet, his brain still catching on and he has no time whatsoever to prepare himself for the next blow.  
Benson does it anyways and Neymar howls in pain. 

He can feel something warm and sticky run down his face and when he opens his mouth and a disgusting coppery taste spreads over his tongue he knows its blood. 

“Fuck.” He hisses and wipes his hand across his face, wincing when he accidentally touches the bridge of his nose. 

His fingers come away red and Neymar feels how he starts to get dizzy. He hates blood and can’t see, taste or smell it. 

“Do you have enough yet?” Benson asks his eyes wide with wrath. “I don’t think you have Neyney.” 

His fist connects with Neymar mouth, splitting open the Brazilian’s lip in the process. More blood starts trickling down his face and Neymar starts gagging, the trees and streetlamps spinning around him like he’s on a carousel. Everything is a whirl of black mixed with white dots and Benson’s face. The older boy is still snarling at him but Neymar feels like he’s deaf. He can see Benson’s lips moving but he can’t actually hear a word he says. His attacker, obviously dissatisfied with his lack of response, draws back his fist once again. 

Neymar tries to get his arms up in time to shield his face from Benson’s anger but he’s not fast enough, his movements still uncoordinated. His jaw is hit again and this time Ney goes down, the world bottoming out beneath him as he falls and hits the floor hard. His head strikes the pavement and for a scary few seconds he can’t see anything. Everything is black, without any shape or form and Neymar starts screaming in panic. He’s not sure if any noise actually comes out but judging by the way Benson sits down on his chest, making it harder for him to fill his lungs with fresh air, it does. 

Neymar starts panicking even more then. He doesn’t want to die like this, not here and not now. He wants to make up with Geri, wants to try and be a good friend. He wants to talk things out with Leo as well, because even though he behaved like a dick, Neymar’s heart still belongs to him and nobody else.  
And more importantly, he doesn’t want Benson to win this fight. 

He starts struggling against the older boy, trying with all his strength to throw him off or roll to the side. His fingers tear and scratch at everything he can reach, his legs kick out and pull up, trying to hit Benson where it hurts the most. He’s panting with the strain of it all, sweat forming on his forehead and mixing with the blood that is still trickling down Neymar’s face. 

It’s disgusting but miraculously, he is not in pain anymore. His whole body is running high on what he guesses is adrenaline, focused on fighting back and not on giving up. 

Benson is struggling on top of him as well, having difficulties to hold Neymar in place since he’s not that much more muscular. He is still trying to strike Neymar’s face, landing a few hits every now and then but he’s panting as well with the effort of pressing Neymar’s withering body into the dirt. 

“I think I like your face better like this.” He sneers at Neymar and for a moment Neymar feels like he has lost his mind. 

Every blow to his face seems to be harder than the next one, makes the world spin a little bit faster, makes the spot in front of his dance and blood fill his mouth until he feels like he has to choke on it. Benson grabs his wrists in a moment of weakness, holds them tightly, so tightly that Neymar’s positive his grip will leave marks, and forcefully presses them down next to his head.  
They’re both gasping for air now.

“Stop.” He whimpers. “Please, stop this.” 

It actually hurts to talk, his busted lip is already starting to swell up and his tongue feels leaden. He’s slurring like he is one high or drunk but he’s not, Benson has just done a pretty good job of crushing his face.

He still hates himself for expressing weakness but he can’t take it anymore. His head is throbbing, his nose and mouth are still bleeding and he feels like he’s actually close to passing out. He really, really doesn’t want to die here. 

Benson lets him sit up and spit blood onto the grass but doesn’t allow him to get back to his feet and Neymar realizes he’s not done with him yet. Maybe if he wouldn’t have spent the majority of the evening lamenting over Geri and Leo, he would have cried now but all of his tears are spent and his eyes are as dry as the dirt he is being pressed into.

“Oh Neyney.” Benson whispers and runs his fingers up Neymar’s aching jaw, pressing into the spot he has hit first, making the Brazilian wince in pain. “Talk to me, where are your friends now?” 

“Right fucking here.” Somebody growls and oh well, apparently he did still have some tears left because when Sergio’s face suddenly appears above them, Neymar cries. 

The next few minutes are a whirl of everything Neymar has never wanted to experience.  
Sergio pulls Benson off of his chest and judging by the little whimpers filling the night a few seconds later his ex is not very successful in outplaying the Spaniard. Neymar decides not to look, he has seen enough blood for one night and his body is aching. 

He is staring up at the night sky, actually seeing stars this time while trying to remember how to move. His limbs feel like they’re no longer attached to his body but Neymar’s too tired to go into panic mode again. The adrenaline is fading, making room for the pain to come rushing in at full force. He groans, loud enough to shut up the teenage boys bickering above him. It’s oddly silent for a second and Neymar considers falling asleep right then and there. He so, so tired all of sudden. 

“I swear, if you did any serious harm, I will find you and I will make sure nobody recognizes your face after I’m done with you. You will pay for this!” Sergio’s voice is low and he sounds so eerie Neymar shivers even tough Sergio is not directing his words at him.

There is some scrambling above him then, footsteps hurrying away and low voices hissing insults at each other. Neymar can’t understand what they’re saying, can barely distinguish between Sergio’s and Benson’s voices. The two bulky dudes that remind Ney of Crabbe and Goyle from Harry Potter, seem to not say anything at all. Maybe the only reason why Benson keeps them around is because they help him beat up helpless, skinny dudes in the middle of the night.  
Neymar decides to add them to the list of people he hates from the bottom of his heart, and it looks like Cristiano will actually have to fight for his leading position now.

Sergio and Benson are back to fighting each other. Their voices are steadily rising until Neymar can almost make out what they’re saying. He’s still wondering why there are suddenly stars in the sky but he closes his eyes to focus on the words being spoken instead. He wants to know what’s going on and he’s sure that Benson’s the one talking, well yelling, and he’s so close to catching on when suddenly the world goes blank. 

A white, hot pain, arising from his ankle, shoots up his leg in a painful spike that reaches every single muscles of his body in a matter of seconds. Neymar feels like he’s on fire.  
His body arches off the freezing cold ground and he automatically goes to reach for the source of his agony. 

The moment his fingertips brush against his pulsing ankle, another wave of pain washes over him. He feels like he might have to drown in it.

\--- End of description here ---

“Don’t touch it!” Sergio is there all of sudden, grabbing Neymar’s hands that are still hovering above his injured foot. 

He doesn’t know what happened and he’s not sure if he wants to find out. All that matters right now is that it hurts more than anything Neymar has ever experienced before. His bleeding nose and busted lip are nothing against this. 

“Do you think you can stand up?” Sergio is so close to him Neymar thinks he should feel uncomfortable but he doesn’t.

He’s just fucking glad somebody is with him right now because otherwise he might not be able to get up and that again would mean freezing to death in the middle of campus. 

“Neymar, you need to open your fucking mouth and talk to me. Do you think you can stand up?” Sergio voice is so insistent Neymar forces himself to swallow against the lump in his throat. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs and glances down at his ankle, unsure of how much damage had been done. “What happened?” 

Sergio makes a sound that resembles a wolf growling at his prey and then let’s go of Neymar’s fingers. He hadn’t even realized the Spaniard was still holding his hands. 

“That motherfucking son of a bitch stepped on it when he got scared and ran away. If I would have gotten a hold on him I swear I would have shoved my fist so far up his ass that it would have come back out through his mouth.” Sergio hisses while searching through his pockets for his phone. 

Neymar’s in so much pain that it is starting to make him feel physically sick. He moves his leg a tiny bit and moans pitifully, his ankle throbbing. It feels absolutely disgusting and it hurts like somebody is currently trying to crush his bones using something brutal like a hammer.  
He might actually have to throw up again. 

“I feel sick.” He tells Sergio. 

“Just hold on, I will call Geri. He’ll know what to do.” The older boy mumbles in response.

His screen lights up and dips his face into a greenish glow that makes him look a bit like an alien. Suddenly Neymar isn’t hurting anymore. His hand shoots out and he snatches Sergio’s phone away before the Spaniard can even do so much as blink. Seconds later they’re both wrapped back into semi darkness. 

“Don’t.” Neymar says hotly. “Don’t call Geri.”

“Why not?” Sergio actually sounds surprised, staring at Ney in astonishment.

“Just don’t. Promise me you won’t call him or anybody to be exact.” 

Sergio keeps quiet for a few seconds that feel like an eternity to Neymar. He could easily overpower the Brazilian, take his phone back and call Geri, something he would have done every other day but tonight he doesn’t move. 

“Okay.” He finally says and something in his voice bespeaks that he is telling the truth. “Will you tell me what happened when I promise you not to call anybody?”

Neymar feels relief take him but he is soon brought back down to earth when Sergio gets up and accidentally brushes against his swollen ankle. 

He wants to cry out in pain but bites down on his lip until new blood gushes into his mouth, He doesn’t want to give away how bad the little to no contact actually hurt him. Because remember, he’s not a fucking child, okay? He can take a little pain, his ankle’s probably just twisted a little. 

Neymar knows that he is acting immature and unreasonably while trying to do the exact opposite but honestly, he doesn’t fucking care right now. He’s dealt with enough for one night, he just wants to go back to his dorm and sleep. The hospital will still be there in the morning. 

“Come here.” Sergio offers him both hands. “Let’s try and get you up.”

Neymar sucks in a deep breath but reaches up and let Sergio help him back to his feet, well one foot because the other still hurts like a bitch. He hisses softly, a little wobbly but the older boy is there to steady him. 

“Can you walk?” Sergio asks and Neymar nods even though he’s not sure if he really can. “Here, wrap your arm around my neck. I can support you more easily like this.” 

Ney does as he is told, wrapping his left arm around Sergio’s shoulder since his right ankle is the injured one. 

“Which direction is your dorm?”

“That way.” Neymar nods into the darkness. “We just have to keep on going straight.”

“Well-“ Sergio snorts and carefully takes a step forward, testing if Neymar would be able to keep up with him. “-I guess it’s too late for that.”

Neymar frowns, partly because moving his foot forward hurts and partly because he doesn’t understand what Sergio’s referring to. 

“What are you talking about? Are you actually joking around? I almost died Sergio.” He complains halfheartedly while they slowly inch forward. 

“I mean, Geri puts his dick up my ass on a daily basis and like, you would totally go to your knees for Leo as well. Going straight is not an option.” The Spaniard continues and starts giggling at his own joke. “Come on, I had to say that.” 

Neymar laughs as well. It’s a tiny laugh, very short lived and breathless but it’s a laugh nonetheless. 

The way back to his dorm takes way longer than anticipated. Sergio half drags, half carries him there and Neymar tries to help as much as he possibly can. Putting weight on his ankle makes him wince in pain every time he does so, but he’s at least able to do it which is good because that means he didn’t break any bones.

By the time they actually reach his building and Sergio carries him upstairs (because there is literally no way Neymar will be able to do that on his own) they are both drenched with sweat despite it still being damn near freezing outside.

“Fuck, you’re not actually that skinny.” Sergio gasps and unlocks the door for them both.

The room is dark, Rafa being out on a date with the German goalkeeper from their training unit, Marc. Neymar likes him, he’s the sweetest guy to ever walk the surface of the earth and he’s very pleased he asked Rafinha out on a date. He will treat his best friend just like he deserves to be treated. 

Also, another reason why Neymar is glad Rafa is not home right now, is that he doesn’t have to witness him coming in looking like he had just been run over by a bus. The other Brazilian tends to fuss over him quite a lot, even if he acts like he’s pissed all the time, and Neymar is positive he would have fainted at the sight of him. So it’s a lucky coincidence that Marc chose today to wine and dine Rafa. 

“Fuck.” Sergio’s voice makes Neymar turn back towards him. “You look like shit Neymar.” 

The Spaniard is looking at him with an expression he only ever wears when watching Gerard hurting himself on the pitch. He’s worried and the fact that Sergio is actually worrying for him is overstraining Neymar in every way possible.

He’s a sensitive person okay, and it was way easier to hate the taller boy. He loves cuddles but he gets irritated when somebody he isn’t close too starts taking care of him like Sergio did tonight. But maybe that means they are actually friends now, right? Because otherwise he wouldn’t have come to Neymar rescue, would he? 

“Stop fussing.” He chokes out and scrunches his shirt up between his blood crusted fingers.

Damn, he really needs to take a shower.

“Nah, I’m not. I’m just telling you that you look like shit.” Sergio grins and then pushes past him to go and inspect the bathroom. “Come in here, I will help you clean up. You look like you’ve just murdered somebody.” 

Neymar hobbles after him in slow motion and takes a seat on top of the toilet. He watches Sergio roll up the sleeves of his sweatshirt (how he is he only wearing a sweatshirt while Neymar is freezing in his winter jacket?!) and starts rummaging through their cabinets, looking for a towel and washcloth. Neymar doesn’t say anything to help him along, just keeps staring silently.  
The events of the evening are slowly getting to him and all the emotion connected to them start to overwhelm him. 

Sergio mumbles something to himself and then comes over to Neymar, holding a drenched washcloth in both hands. 

“I’m not good at this but since you won’t let me call anybody, you’ll have to deal.”

Neymar closes his eyes and sits very still. He lets Sergio wash the blood of his face and neck and tries not to show his distress when the Spaniard starts cleaning his wounds. Thankfully there are not that many, is nose and jaw are not broken, the only thing split open being his lower lip. Sergio is surprisingly gentle; always making sure Neymar is okay to take the pain and watching out not rub the sore places too much. When he’s done and goes to wash the blood out of the cloth Neymar is close to asking if he’s done this before.  
He doesn’t remember Geri ever getting into a fight though and that’s why he ends up asking something else. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Sergio glances up to him shortly before focusing back onto his task. He calmly washes the blood of his hands and even puts up the towel and washcloth to dry, before turning to answering the question. 

“Because I don’t hate you and you don’t hate me. I wasn’t about to let him beat the shit out of you, Neymar. Did you think I would just walk by? You clearly don’t know how to fight, I can’t believe Geri didn’t teach you.”

Neymar feels a tiny bit offended by the comment and goes to cross his skinny arms.

“You just weren’t around to witness me beat him up.” He replies snappishly.

“Oh.” Sergio arches an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t see any bruises on his face when I came around.” 

“I hit him in the stomach, okay?” 

“Sure.” The Spaniard chuckles and opens some more cupboards until he finds a few band-aids.  
Neymar didn’t even know they had them. 

“I made sure he has some now.” Sergio says as he comes over once more. 

He sticks two plasters to his lip and then carefully presses them on. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t come to help you?” He asks all of sudden, the seriousness in his voice catching Neymar off guard. 

“I- I expected someone else to save me.” He confesses and looks away when Sergio meets his eyes. 

“Hm.” The older boy hums and goes to his knees in front of Neymar. “I see.” 

He doesn’t question it further and Neymar is very, very grateful for that because he is not in the mood to talk about the things that happened between Leo, Geri and him tonight. He also doesn’t want to rant to Sergio about his boyfriend, that would be even too insensitive for Neymar to do. 

He pulls his foot away nonetheless. 

“It’s okay. It’s just a little twisted, it’ll be fine.” He assures Sergio.

He looks at him sharply but lets it go anyways. He probably doesn’t want to discuss deep shit with Neymar either. 

“Fine, but at least let me get some ice for you to put on it.” 

“You don’t have to.” Neymar stutters, his cheeks actually flushing out of embarrassment. 

It had definitely been easier for him to hate Sergio then to be at the receiving end of his affections. This whole situation feels like it is upside down somehow. 

“I will anyways.” Sergio shrugs and is out of the room before Neymar can open his mouth to protest. 

“Fuck.” He cruses and smashes his fist against the tiled wall. 

It hurts but he doesn’t care because everything hurts anyways. His ankle is still the worst though and Neymar whimpers a little when he slowly gets to his feet. He sways a bit, like he’s drunk or something, and quickly leans against the wall for support. He discovers that putting too much weight on his foot is not a good idea and should be avoided at all costs. 

On his way out of the bathroom Ney catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look as bad as Sergio has made it out to be. 

There is a large, purple bruise starting to spread over his jawbone and several little ones tainting the bridge of his nose. His lip swelled up already and Neymar gently touches his fingertips to the still fresh cut. It doesn’t hurt that bad and he keeps on pressing until it starts bleeding again slightly. 

Then he starts limping his way back into his bedroom and hobbles over to his bed on his healthy foot. The movements makes fresh tears spring to his eyes but this time Neymar manages to suppress them. When Sergio comes back he is sitting on top of his covers, breathing deeply through his nose to calm his racing heartbeat. 

“Here.” The older boy hands an icepack over to him and then gives Neymar’s ankle a once over. “It looks like it swelled up pretty badly. Are you sure it’s just sprained?” 

Neymar nods and cautiously pulls his leg up, pressing the icepack against his throbbing bone. He can’t help but sigh at the alleviation the cool liquid brings to his ankle.

“Just get it checked out tomorrow, okay?” Sergio asks but Neymar knows it’s not really a question. 

“I will.” He promises. “Ehm- I just wanted to say thank you, Sergio. For like saving my ass.”

The Spaniard grins at him and he looks so much like Geri in that moment it actually makes Neymar’s heart hurt. 

“No problem. If somebody is allowed to beat you up, that would be me on the pitch.” 

Neymar smiles faintly and shrugs. 

“I guess so.” 

“Who were they anyways? I know who Benson is, I took a couple of classes with him during freshmen year but like- what did he want from you?” Sergio asks, fixating Neymar with a stare he can’t seem to escape. 

He shifts uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like he is a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding bus. 

“He was high.” Neymar says, trying to avoid the question but Sergio is not budging. “Okay, we used to fuck when I first came to Barcelona and didn’t know anybody.”

Sergio whistles softly. 

“I see.” That stupid grin is back and Neymar snorts at the ridiculous expression.

“It’s not funny.” 

“It is though.” Sergio chuckles. “Your ass must be hella fine if he’s still lusting after it. Kinda like Torres and Griezmann.” 

Neymar doesn’t tell him he said the exact same thing to Benson an hour back, because somehow them thinking the same things freaks him out. He has not been friend with Sergio for that long after all. 

“Antoine has a boyfriend.” He says instead. 

Sergio shrugs. 

“I know. Cris used to want to fuck him as well but he got friend zoned right on his first try. The Frenchman turned out to be pretty faithful, I was surprised.” 

Neymar wants to say something else but Sergio’s phone, breaking out into some Spanish rap song, keeps him from doing so. The older boy fumbles for his phone and curses quietly when he sees the caller ID. 

“Shit, it’s Geri. I forgot I was actually on my way to his room.” Sergio whines. “I swear, he’s so bitchy about me missing dates.” 

Neymar would have been amused by the statement but the mention of Geri’s name makes him feel numb. Gerard should have been the one saving him tonight, not Sergio. 

“Then go get your ass over there. I will be fine.” He says but it’s unnecessary anyways. 

Sergio is already half way out of the door, phone pressed to his ear. Neymar watches him go, nods at the thump up the older one gives him and when the door finally slams shut he drops back into his pillows and allows himself to cry for the third time tonight.

God, he really is a fucking child. 

\-----

Neymar doesn’t get a lot of sleep that night. 

He can’t find a comfortable position to lie in, his body aching in all the wrong places no matter what he does. He also keeps on checking his phone every few minutes, waiting to receive a text from Geri or maybe even Leo. At around 03:47 his phone eventually dies and Neymar’s ankle hurts way too much to get up and go get his charger from where Rafa has it plugged in on his side of the room. 

His best friend doesn’t return to their room that night. That’s the third thing that keeps Neymar from finding sleep.  
He knows that he was out with Marc and the fact that apparently their date went so well, that Rafa promptly decided to stay over at his the dorm the very first night, makes Neymar feel an odd mix of pride and jealously. 

The sun comes up at around 05:23am and Neymar’s eyes hurt from being opened for such a long time. He’s not going to class today, not when he isn’t even sure if he can get up on his own. The icepack now is only a gross, lukewarm plastic bag filled with blue slime and Neymar kicks it out of his bed. 

He finds sleep when the birds start singing outside. 

It’s really light outside when somebody starts hammering against the door of his dorm. Still wrapped in the haze of his bizarre dreams, Neymar forgets he’s not supposed to move around so much and stretches his legs like he usually does when he wakes up. 

This time, he kind of screams a little, which makes the person in front of his room pound against the wood harder.  
For a second Neymar’s heart ignites with a spark of hope. Maybe it’s Leo standing outside, wanting to check on him. He missed class after all and he never misses a class he shares with Leo, the Argentinian had probably noticed that by now. 

But before Neymar can get too excited, Sergio’s deep voice rumbles through the door. 

“Neymar, open the fucking door or did you just die falling out of bed?” 

The Brazilian feels a pang of disappointment in his chest and considers just not giving an answer to the Spaniard. 

“I didn’t fall out of bed. Go away.” He yells back anyways. 

“Ney, I know you wanted someone else to come and wheel your sorry ass to the hospital but you also told me not to tell anyone about what happened yesterday. And I keep my word, Geri and Leo, they don’t know.” He speaks through the door and Neymar presses his hands over his ears, because why does Sergio have to be right about this? 

They keep on yelling at each other through the door for a few more minutes before Neymar gives in at last and crawls out of bed. It takes him some more time to get to the door and when he finally opens up and is met by Sergio’s annoyed face, he’s tempted to throw the door shut again. 

“I thought I was gonna have to die waiting out here. “ He says and stretches his arms like he had just woken up from a long sleep. “Are you still wearing your clothes from yesterday? That’s disgusting.” 

Neymar scrunches up his nose and throws up both hands a little too dramatically. 

“It’s kinda hard to change when you can’t actually move.” He grunts, hostility flaring back up.

Sergio looks down at his foot and whistles. He follows the Spaniards his eyes and swallows when he catches sight of his ankle. 

It looks like his bones had been replaced by a fucking tennis ball. 

“I knew you were lying, should have forced you to go to the doctors yesterday.” Sergio mumbles and steps past him into the room. “Let’s change your shirt at least. If we go to the hospital like this, they’ll think I just tried to murder you.” 

Neymar doesn’t protest anymore. The sight of his swollen, green-blue ankle had scared the shit out of him. Massively.

He didn’t expect it to be this bad, how was he supposed to play football ever again? 

He let Sergio choose a shirt for him, not caring that he actually grabbed one of Rafa’s favorite ones. His best friend would probably kill him later on but that was okay, because if he couldn’t play football anymore, he didn’t want to continue to live anyways. 

Sergio carried him downstairs again and Neymar was so glad most of the students were at class right now. He looked like a damsel in dismay and that honestly wasn’t his favorite position to be in. Outside of the building Geri’s car was parking right where Leo had picked up for their first day so many months ago. It was kind of ironic. 

“Why are you driving Geri’s car?” Neymar asks as he sinks into the familiar seats. “He loves his car.” 

“Well, believe it or not, he actually loves me too.” Sergio deadpans and lets the engine roar to life. 

He is wearing his long, dark hair up in a bun which keeps loosening more and more every time he moves around. His torso is clad in a simple black long sleeve and a clean pair of jeans. Looking at him closely like this, makes Neymar realizes that Sergio’s not as ugly as he always thought he was. Actually, he is quite good looking and his long hair doesn’t bother him that much anymore either. It kind of fits him.

On the not very long drive to the hospital Neymar discovers two new things. One: Sergio can listen to a song on repeat for an eternity without getting bored and two: he hates the band Bloodhound Gang. 

That’s mainly because Sergio keeps on playing one of their songs until they roll onto the parking lot of the nearest clinic. It’s called “The Bad Touch” and it actually has the dirtiest lyrics Neymar has ever heard in his life. And his life may have been short, but he has listen to a lot of nasty music in those sweet seventeen years, okay?

Somehow the music fits into his overall picture of Sergio Ramos though. A hot headed Spaniard with an aggressive style of playing football, a favor for bullfighting and fucking his boyfriend, probably to songs like this. It doesn’t make Neymar feel as uncomfortable as it probably should be because now, there is a new component weighing in on his judgement. That is Sergio saving his ass, cleaning his wounds in a surprisingly gentle way and now missing class to drive him to the hospital. 

Neymar considers them friends now.

“I fucking owe you.” Neymar says when they park and Sergio shuffles around the car to help him get out. 

The older boy shrugs nonchalantly and puts a strip of chewing gum between his teeth, that are almost as white as Cristiano Ronaldo’s. He starts masticating it with an obscene volume, while half lifting, half dragging Neymar out of his seat. He doesn’t say anything about it.

“The next time we play against each other, don’t score.” Sergio suddenly says and breaks out into loud laughter when Neymar stares at him in horror. 

“I can’t.” He protests. “No, Sergio, no. I can’t do that, please don’t make me do that.” 

The automatic doors slide open for them and together they limp into the entrance hall of the hospital. The air-conditioning is on even though it’s November and Neymar already hates the clean white walls and the smell of disinfectant.

“Seriously, I’m not gonna do that.” He repeats when Sergio slowly pushes him into the direction of the front desk. 

“Bueno. I will think of something worse then.” Sergio whispers into his ear right when the first nurse comes rushing towards them. 

“Bastard.” Neymar gives right before a mob of white coats and worried faces swallows him up. 

\-----

They x-ray Neymar’s ankle first thing. 

He has to lay down on a littler padded with black leather that is much too long and wide for his skinny body. The nurse wheeling him into the examination room can’t stop talking about his “unreasonable behavior” and “that he should have come to the hospital immediately last night”. Neymar wants to tell her to shut up but bites his lip in the last second. She’s right after all. 

They take five different shots from every angle possible to be really able to tell how much harm had been done to his ankle. It takes quite a while and Neymar tries to cooperate as best as he can by lying completely still. Afterwards they put him in a wheelchair and a doctor shows him the X-ray shots of his foot, explain what had happened to him yesterday. 

Thankfully nothing is broken, there are just several little cracks that have to be fixed by undergoing surgery. Neymar’s heart falls into his stomach when the doctor drops that information and he kind of zones out, now only nodding along to whatever he has to say.  
Apparently it would only be a small operation, serving the purpose to make completely sure that his bones would grow back together the right way. If they didn’t he wouldn’t be able to become a professional footballer anymore. 

“It’s nothing big, I promise. You don’t have to worry, Neymar.” The doctor tells him, his voice so deep it surprises the young boy every time he opens his mouth to speak. “We will contact your coaches as soon as possible and schedule a date. Until then you will have to stay here to make sure you don’t hurt yourself further. You’re lucky you got away with a minor injury like that.” 

Neymar laughs but it doesn’t sound relieved but rather hysterical. This was supposed to be a minor injury? Hell, if that was the case he would pray to the Lord to never actually break a bone. 

“Are you in pain?” The man, Doctor Perez to be exact, asks him and when Neymar nods, he quickly scribbles something down on a piece of paper. “We will take care of that. You’re in good hands now and you will be back on your feet in no time. I promise.”

He gives Neymar an encouraging smile which he doesn’t return. 

The nagging nurse from earlier comes to get him. She keeps her mouth shut this time and Neymar is grateful for that since he is actually starting to become really tired. The lack of sleep and the exhaustion from last night starting to finally get to him. 

They put him on pain meds and Neymar spends the next half an hour laughing at the doctor that is trying to bandage his foot. When he actually succeeds and his facial wound are properly taken care off as well, they bring him to his room, one with a single bed and an extra big bathroom, and start taking off his clothes. 

Neymar wants to protest because he doesn’t want the nagging nurse to see his body in all his naked glory, but his tongue feels heavy and he doesn’t manage to do anything else then to slur incomprehensible shit. He’s almost completely knocked out when they finally tug him into his bed and it feels so nice because for once Neymar actually doesn’t feel any more pain. 

His body is light, his mind fuzzy and he is probably smiling like a dork, because when Sergio walks in and catches sight of him, he starts laughing like a maniac. The last thing Neymar sees is the Spaniard flinging himself down on the chair next to his hospital bed, starting to flick through some girly magazine. 

If Neymar happens to still remember that when waking up, he will definitely call Sergio out on it. 

 

He doesn’t remember when he comes back to his senses. 

For a long, long moment Neymar is confused about where he is. He’s lying in an unfamiliar bed, the walls are oddly white and the ceiling he is staring at, reminds him of a hospital. Then it clicks and he relaxes back into the pillows cushioning his body. He is in the hospital indeed. 

Neymar’s eyes wander down to where the blanket is tenting weirdly at the foot of the bed. He carefully tugs the cover aside and examines his foot which is wrapped in the biggest cast he has ever seen in his life. He can’t move or lift his leg at all, the weight on his foot being way too heavy. 

This is probably payback for not coming to the hospital earlier. They won’t let him move until they’re sure his ankle is fully healed. Fucking Benson, if he ever crossed Neymar’s path again, Sergio wouldn’t be the only one leaving bruises on his face. 

Sergio. 

Neymar turns but the Spaniard is no longer there. He’s alone in this sterile, white cell and he already knows his stay here will be torturous. He’s hooked to a drip that is standing beside his bed. A clear liquid is leisurely dripping into the tube that connects his arm with the medical construction. 

Neymar inspects the place where the little needle disappears beneath his tanned skin and notices, to his surprise, that it doesn’t hurt at all. Then he realizes that the only uncomfortable sensations he is currently receiving from his body, is a dull throbbing in his ankle and that’s still nothing compared to yesterday. So the clear stuff is probably some kind of painkiller. 

Neymar loves it. 

He reaches up and flicks the tube once or twice, grinning as a bit more of the medication drips down into the tube. Maybe he will be fine after all. 

He waits for a few minutes but since nobody seems to care about him being awake he decides to go back to sleep. There is not much else he could do anyways.

Just when he had wiggled into a comfortable position, the sound of shoes squeaking against linoleum flooring reaches his ears. He stills, listens and opens his eyes again when the voices get closer and finally stop right in front of his door. 

Two men are speaking and Neymar knows both of them well enough. 

“You can’t just go brag in there now. He may still be asleep and the doctor said he needs rest.” 

That’s Sergio. 

“Bullshit.” The second man speaks up and Neymar feels his hands curling into the bedsheets, gripping them tightly. “What he needs is a friend. He’s scared, fuck, he‘s probably fucking terrified.”

That is unmistakably Gerard’s voice booming through the corridor. He sounds aggravated, just like he did last night and Neymar feels his heartrate pick up. Thank God, he’s not hooked up to a machine keeping track of his pulse. 

“He’s fine. They put him on meds to help the pain. He was fucking high when I went in a few hours ago.” Sergio gives back sternly. 

A few hours? Has he really been out that long? Neymar searches the room for a clock but finds none. He has no idea what time it is but Sergio’s right, the sun is definitely much lower in the sky and the first shadows are starting to fill his room with darkness. 

“I don’t care. I just want to see him.” Gerard sounds determined but Sergio doesn’t back down either. 

“Listen, he’s overtired. Let him rest and talk to him later. You’re asking for too much, Geri.” 

“I’m not, I already kept Leo from driving to the hospital. You should have seen his face when Lucho told us about Ney being injured. He went out of his freaking mind.”

Neymar shivers, suddenly feeling cold even though pain medication is still pulsing through his veins. He hates the thought of Leo being sad because of him, can’t stand it actually. He doesn’t want to be the source of any further pain, he just wants Leo to be happy even if that meant that he himself couldn’t be happy in the same way. 

In front of his door, Sergio went silent but Gerard is still going strong.

“You should have called me immediately.” He is saying. “You should have told me, I can’t believe you let him convince you to not do so! I’m his friend Sergio and you fucking hate him.” 

“No, I don’t.” Sergio growls back. “You know I never hated him.” 

Geri doesn’t even listen to his boyfriend. 

“Right when you walked by him getting the living shit beaten out of him you should have called me, Sergio. I don’t think I will ever be able to-“ 

“Stop!” Sergio voice sounds like fire. “Stop right fucking there Geri. You’re talking shit because you don’t want to take the blame but do you want to hear the truth for once? You should have been there.” 

Then there is silence and it stretches into a small eternity. Neymar feels like he is standing on his tiptoes on the edge of a cliff, his body hanging in the air not quite decided yet what direction to swing to. Either he will tumble into his death and crash into the waves, or he will fall backwards and live. He closes his eyes, listens. 

“I know, Sese.” Geri says. “I know.” 

Neymar lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this chapter was mainly focused on Neymar and Sergio’s relationship but honestly, that is one of my favorite components of the story. I promise in the next chapter there will be more Neymessi and more of Antoine and other characters again. Please stick with me on this one :) 
> 
> Also speaking of the song I mentioned in the end, it is indeed very nasty. But when I heard it for the first time, Sergio immediately popped into my head and I somehow thought it fitted his character so well. I just had to incorporate into the story lol 
> 
> Also, I am on tumblr: barce-fabu-lona.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this.
> 
> Also, I am on tumblr: barce-fabu-lona.tumblr.com


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